Bad Things
by Artemisdesari
Summary: I wanna do bad things with you". Inspired by the song Bad Things. Dean wants Cas, Cas wants Dean. Rated for a reason! COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_I have an excuse for this, I blame my sister who, in the wisdom of the sick and feverish, decided that watching Friends while I was trying to write the next chapter of my most recent fic was a good idea. I hate Friends with a holy passion and begged for Cas to come forth and smite it. He didn't so I had to find another way of getting my grove back. Music is my friend and my enemy. Having listened to most of my Dean/Cas themed list I found Bad Things by Jace Everett and after listening to it on a loop for an hour and a half while the horror of Friends droned on in the background and I blushed red to the roots of my hair, this was born. Then edited, and it somehow became something other than the fic I had envisioned, I don't know how. It does, however, deserve it's rating.  
_

_**Disclaimer:** If I owned them this would be irrefutable canon rather than the products of my brain, I think it is safe to say that it is not canon, though I dare everyone to gues which scene inspired it._

**_Edited:_**_ In the interests of playing with the bunny that has eaten away at my ankles I have changed the end ever so slightly to tie in with 5.10. Plot Bunny and I are going to have a long chat now.  
_

Bad Things.

Dean thinks that he should be getting used to this, the way that every time he sees Castiel these days his breath hitches, the way that it stumbles or stops completely each time the angel gets into his personal space. He tells himself that it is because the angel is stood too close, that he has no concept of how close he is getting rather than that he has any idea what it does to him, because Dean does not understand it, not really, just knows that once Castiel is gone he needs some serious alone time.

Now that Sam is not here that is not the problem that it used to be, except that it is still a problem all things considered. He wonders, once he is spent and scrubbing hard at his own skin to try and wash away the relief and bliss, whether the angel brought him back wrong, whether the part of him that was left behind in the pit was the part that would tell brain, body _and_ heart that this is wrong. It does not matter, because there is still the lust and the desire and the _need_ and whether he was put back together wrong or not it does not change anything, is too late for it to change anything.

Point here being, and he has a point by the way, his brain is not just one track all porn and hunting all the time, that this is the kind of thing that, Michael's vessel or no, gets him smote and sent to straight back to Hell on a one way ticket. Completely and utterly one way, no get out of jail free cards this time, just death and torture and endless longing for real death. So he keeps it all in his head and maybe there _is_ an endless supply of porn in there, because he can certainly come up with enough fantasies to get him off once Castiel is actually out of the room and still mercifully oblivious to Dean's need and desire and damn near blasphemous thoughts. At least, Dean hopes that he is oblivious.

So when Castiel pops in again, and this time close enough that Dean cannot turn because they are all but pressed together and that is doing something to a certain part of his anatomy that he does _not _want the angel to see, _ever_, he cannot help but feel trapped. He swallows, tries twice to speak, to tell Cas to _back off_ and the words stick in his throat as the angel rubs against him, breath ghosting hot against the back of his neck and hands that normally hang limp at his sides beginning to trace up Dean's arms, arms that are supporting all of his weight as he tries to keep himself upright given that at this precise moment he does not trust his trembling legs to keep him from crashing to the ground.

"_Dean_," Castiel's voice is little more than a whisper of need and lips are pressed against the back of the hunter's neck where he suckles for a moment before licking the sensitive area softly and if Dean were coherent enough he would ask the angel where he picked up such skills given that the trip to the whorehouse was less than productive in that area. He is _not,_ coherent, however, in fact, coherency abandoned him in about the same moment as Cas muttered his name and he can feel something digging into the back of his thigh and he has a feeling that it is the same thing that is currently tenting the front of his own, suddenly too tight, jeans.

Castiel's hand slides the edge of Dean's t-shirt up his arm, comes to rest on the scar there and traces the outline, fingers feather light and ghosting over it and that, right there, that almost makes Dean lose it utterly and he moans something that even he cannot translate. For one horrible moment he thinks that he may have finally lost his mind, that this is either a really vivid hallucination or a seriously messed up dream and then Castiel bites into his shoulder and the pain of that, which is quickly replaced by something else because apparently Cas likes to lick as well as bite, makes him realise that this is real and wherever this came from is remarkably unimportant, because this is Castiel and at this precise moment he is fulfilling at least one of Dean's fantasies.

Then the angel's hands are gone from his arms and drifting up Dean's sides, bringing the soft cloth of his overworn t-shirt with them, and as much as he does not want to let go of the sink for fear of falling, he does, because he wants the t-shirt off more and for the first time he looks in the mirror, meets the blue of Castiel's eyes even in the mist of the cool glass and holds them until soft black cuts off his vision for a moment.

It occurs to him that the angel is doing all of the work here and he tries to turn as he hears fabric hitting the floor, is surprised when Cas stops him with a murmur and the feel of teeth on skin as he nips his way down Dean's back, licks his way back up again and if that were not so hot that it makes the hunter close his eyes again and moan, he would notice that the lingering pressure of the angel against his back is gone, that even though the tongue swirls and draws over a back that arches a little more as he is nuzzled to lean over the sink again, hands are not involved in the equation.

When he hears the clink of a belt he comes back to himself, the pull of a zipper tells him how far this may go and as much as he _wants_ to, has done for a long time, he should stop it, because his brain is screaming wrong and his body is screaming right and a part of him is saying that he wants it and needs it and that he should go with it.

"Cas," it is meant to be a warning, meant to ask him to stop before this goes further, it does not come out like that. What it actually comes out as is a broken cry and hoarse whine. He is so hard he aches, is desperate for the touch of another, or himself at this point he is not exactly picky, and when he feels Castiel's hands brush against the front of his jeans he forgets why he thought this was a bad idea, because even his brain is on board with the idea now, and he bucks into Cas's waiting hand, feels the tension released for a moment as the angel undoes belt, button and zipper, rocking in time with the now steady thrusts against him and he wants this.

He whines the angel's name again as his jeans pool at his feet and he steps out of them awkwardly, kicking them to one side and leaning more heavily forwards as he feels Castiel's erection against his back, spies a questing hand out the corner of one eye as Cas pushes him down onto his elbows, kicks his legs apart and Dean takes a chance to glance into the mirror again, still able to see the rough haze of moving bodies and the blue of Castiel's eyes.

Whatever the angel was looking for has been found, he realises, hearing the gentle click of a cap being opened even over harsh breathing that is coming from both of them, and then there is something cool against his entrance and he gasps as a finger is pushed slowly inside, cool and slick and it hurts, makes him groan with a pain that is quickly soothed by a soft kiss at the base of his spine and a curious hand on his weeping erection that has been neglected for far too long.

They continue like this, Castiel stroking and stretching, licking, biting and kissing and all Dean can do is moan and whimper, he wants to touch, wants to reach back and pull Cas into a kiss or return the favours bestowed upon him but every time he tries his hands are batted away. When the angel strokes against something inside him that makes him see stars, Dean forgets to care, feels the angel do it once, twice and by the third time he is so close to the edge that another will bring him crashing over it. Which is when everything stops, the three fingers that fill him are removed, the hand that strokes him vanishes and slowly Dean starts to come down, teeters away from the edge enough to hear a breathless moan and hiss of his name before a slick hand his at his hip and something bigger than fingers is sliding into him.

Cas pauses, gives him a moment to adjust, hands tight on his hips until Dean wriggles a little, hears a soft gasp and the angel moves and he has never felt anything quite so incredible. In the misty mirror, eyes that should not be able to see each other connect, hold the others gaze and all they know is the shooting build of pleasure.

As if he knows what Dean needs, Castiel reaches round and grasps his erection once more, stroking him as he finds that place inside again and it is enough. All at once Dean is screaming as his orgasm rushes over him, can hear Castiel calling his name as he follows. He collapses onto the sink, feels Cas leaning heavily on him and he cannot bring himself to care as he finally draws in a breath he had forgotten he could take.

The soft press of lips against his scar and the shift of the weight on top of him alerts him to Castiel's withdrawal and he moves a hand that seems heavy and sluggish to grasp at him, hisses the angel's name, asking him to stay without actually saying the words and Cas presses a kiss to the centre of his mark.

"I will return, Dean," he whispers and in a moment Dean is alone.

SPN

Castiel stares at the blonde haired man, chest heaving, blue eyes almost black and trembling hard against the last vestiges of his orgasm.

"I can give you that," Lucifer smirks to the angel, "if you join me, when I win I promise not to kill him. He will be yours."

Castiel shakes his head. "No," he whispers.

"You will change your mind, you're mine now, tainted with lust and the sins of the flesh. Enjoy him while you have him." Lucifer is gone and Castiel is alone and he wonders if the words were true for a moment as he looks at the ring of fire that surrounds him.

_I get the feeling that there is a bigger plot here, buried deep in my brain where I hope it will have the decency to stay for a while. At least until I have more time and have stopped turning an unbecoming shade of red every time my sister asks me what I'm writing._

_Artemis  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm planning this and about a chapter ahead of myself, but it's been a bit of a non-starter, mostly because NaNo fried my little brain and for a whole week I could write. A _week_!!! It's been terrible. Got hit by inspiration today while looking at policemen (I don't know why, they have no relevance to this at all) so spent an afternoon in a coffee shop consuming far too much of the sacred beverage and scribbling like mad. Those of you not aware, I have changed the end of the first chapter to tie it into 5.10, literally a line so re-read it so you don't get too confused. It made sense to shift this to tie in there rather than anywhere else. Plus Londo ate my kneecaps until I did it. (Yes, I named my plot bunnies)_

Chapter Two.

Once he is certain that the two Winchesters are safe, which is a relative term given that _both_ sides of this war want them for one reason or another and none of those are in either man's best interest, Castiel takes his leave of them hastily, he has too much on his mind to be of much use to the brothers. He lingers just long enough to be told the fate of Jo and Ellen and while he feels some sorrow about Ellen, he feels only the twist of something dark at the thought of Jo. It shames him to think that a vision of a possible future has had such an effect on him.

Truth of it all is, everything that he has experienced since the vision that Lucifer showed him has felt wrong. It has been tinged with an edge of need and has given him a sensation of dark and black and terrible. It is something inside him that is foreign, scary, an alien thing inside that pushes at him and no matter what he tries as the days pass he simply _cannot make it leave_.

He has tried avoiding Dean, hoping that by not seeing the hunter this dark thing that Lucifer has unlocked within him, this lust, will go away. He has not seen Dean in the days since he spirited the boys away from under Lucifer's nose, and he is not foolish enough to think that Lucifer did anything other than _let_ him take the boys, his fallen brother knew what he was planning even as he opened the gates to allow lust, insatiable and greedy, to fog his mind.

Avoiding the hunter has not helped much. In fact it has not helped at all, it has just made things far worse because now he hurts in a way he has never experienced before. He throws himself into the task of searching for his Father again and hopes that the distraction will take his mind off a sin that he has not yet committed.

Castiel can easily admit that he has been tempted by Dean for a while now, has been tempted since he abandoned the ranks of Heaven to follow the path he felt right. Lucifer is exactly the sort to be aware of the new things that he was experiencing and to take advantage of them. His fallen brother may not ever really _lie, _but he has been known to bend the truth on more than one occasion. Castiel wonders if there is another reason for showing him this future.

Just thinking about the events that may happen makes something in the angel stir, something that he remembers from his experience of the future, and it makes his breath catch in his throat a little. He does not want this, does not want to _feel_ like this, the heat running through his veins as the blood in the body that was once a vessel rushes south, the stirring of flesh that he was never meant to experience. It scares him.

Castiel does not want to deal with it in the way that he knows Dean would, does not want to relive those memories on his own. That possibly scares him more, that he wants to create new memories and feel Dean's hands on him rather than his own. He pushes the desire down where it belongs as he wanders into a sea that buffets and stings as the winds sings through his ears. The chill water soothes the problem quickly as and as effectively as he had hoped, even if it is a little cruel and very unsatisfying. The angel turns his face up to the sky as lightning flashes above him, rain drops that carry the scent of winter and the promise of snow fall sharply against his cheeks as he spreads his diminished senses and hopes for just a moment to feel his Father's presence.

He feels nothing, just as he knew that he would, and he lets the disappointment of crushed hope fill him for a long moment.

In his pocket, his cell phone buzzes briefly, still working even with all the mistreatment over the last weeks. It is another reminder of the power that is abandoning him and he wonders why Lucifer is not so lessened when he, too, abandoned Heaven and his Father in a pointless war against the creation of humanity, and really the war _was_ pointless. Still, he knows that the person trying to get hold of him is Dean, the hunter has been for a few days now, and while Castiel's nearly frozen body is warmed by Dean's concern for him, a dark part of him wishes that Dean would stop.

For the first time in weeks, Castiel answers and moments later he is at Bobby's home, dry now and not even the faintest trace of the sea remains as evidence of the hours he has spent in solitude. Dean glares at him when he arrives and in the older Winchester Castiel can see annoyance, an aggravation at being kept waiting, at being made to worry. There is anger, too, and the angel does not understand why that is directed with such force, such blame, at him. As their eyes are so wont to do they lock together, leaving them staring at each other, one in frustration and the other in false indifference.

He does not understand the rush of emotion that flows through him in that moment, the want and the need and sheer _desire_ and he wonders why it has not lessened, wonders what his brother, fallen brother, has done to him. He can tell that Dean knows that something is wrong, can tell that Dean knows that Lucifer has done something that has changed things as they stand between them because the hunter breaks contact far sooner than he usually would, face morphing from angry to confused and concerned. Castiel does not like seeing that expression on Dean and it makes him wonder what the hunter saw in his own eyes that has brought this forward.

Part of Castiel wants to explain, wants to tell Dean what Lucifer showed him, the future where Dean and Sam are apart again and all that the angel and the hunter have is each other. He wants to tell Dean how their friendship seems to progress beyond the slightly uneasy tolerance that they sometimes display to something more. He does not, because he knows Dean and he knows that Lucifer bends the truth. Most of all, he knows that if he tells Dean what he has seen the hunter will panic and worry, he will vehemently deny the possibility of it ever happening and while part of Castiel wants that reassurance, another part of him never wants to hear it.

"What happened, Cas," Dean asks, and Castiel tilts his head to one side, hopes that his feigned confusion is enough to convince the hunter. "What did he do to you?" Dean is many things, Castiel knows, but completely stupid is not one of them. The hunter is not the sharpest tool in the shed, but the impression that he gives on occasion is that this is a facade, that there is far more going on between his ears than he lets on.

"He wanted me to join him, brought to the surface a few truths that I have been ignoring." Which is something of the truth even if it is not all of it. Dean's eyebrows twitch and Castiel knows that he is aware he is not being told the whole truth.

"Like what?" Dean asks and Castiel looks around them, takes in the rusting cars and the stars that are half obscured by the dulling brilliance of the security lights, avoiding Dean's gaze as he tells him.

"Once Lucifer is defeated my brethren will turn their attention upon me. In comparison to him, I am a minor aggravation," Castiel says finally. Dean nods.

"You know we wouldn't let them do that," he says. There is a reassurance in the way that Dean says the words, even if Castiel knows that there is no way that Dean can keep this promise. Even if the hunter survives Lucifer, makes it through without being killed, falling into Zachariah's clutches or becoming Michael's vessel, his life is finite. Castiel, on the other hand, is as close to immortal as he can be at this precise moment.

Even with his drastically lessened grace, the angel knows that he will be remarkably hard to injure, let alone kill, and that if this is the case for him, Dean will find his brethren a far more difficult task given that they are all now much more powerful than he is. He does not point any of this out to Dean, knows that it would be counter productive, and settles for a simple nod in acknowledgement, feels the warmth of Dean's hand as the hunter claps him on the shoulder. Then the man is walking away, glancing once over his shoulder to make sure that the angel is following, and talking about how they need a new plan. _This_ is something that the angel can agree with completely.

_It's short, I'm sorry. But let me know your thoughts anyway_

_Artemis  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_Two chapters in two days!! Feel privileged, or annoyed, or simply happy, because I promise that the next one will take a little longer. Right now I have more plot bunny bites than is healthy, apparently Londo has friends. I think I need to set traps._

Chapter Three.

They have a new plan and it makes Castiel acknowledge the fact that mankind is incredibly resourceful, if one solution fails them, they will always try and find another way. For a long moment he wishes that his own kind were _half_ so adaptable, except that requires freewill, he reflects, and aside from himself, and probably Lucifer, the only other angels who tried to grasp, or even just understand, the concept of freewill were cast into perdition under Lucifer's command utterly graceless.

Quite probably, Castiel reasons, this is to be _his _fate as well.

They have spent several days working on details, it has been quiet on all fronts apocalypse and rather than take the opportunity to rest and fully recuperate from the trials of the last several months, Dean, Sam and Bobby have thrown themselves into finding another way, another solution to the problem that the brothers brought about. Castiel wars between admiring their tenacity and becoming increasingly frustrated with them as tempers begin to fray with ever increasing regularity due to their lack of progress and news. His patience, though at times seemingly limitless, has been sorely stretched.

Dean and Sam bicker, repeatedly, about whether they should be a Bobby's helping the wheelchair bound hunter with his research for their next foolhardy plan, or whether they should be on the road hunting. All it takes to set them at each other is a snide remark here or an angry word there. The arguments do not end when Bobby tells them to get out of the house and start hunting again, tells them that he will call them when he has news, it simply means that they have a new place to argue and a new set of circumstances to put pressure on their relationship, which has been strained to breaking point with recent events.

If they are in the Impala fighting while Castiel is with them, he has been spending increasing amounts of time with them in the last few days and it is getting increasingly difficult to _not_ be around Dean, the angel will leave and go to either offer aid to Bobby or continue his own fruitless quest to find his Father. He is beginning to think that Gabriel might have been right, that Raphael might have been right, and the thoughts hurt.

If the brothers are in their motel room fighting, Castiel will stay because eventually one or other of them will walk away and the angel will remain near Dean, will listen to him rant and allow him to blow off steam. As the days pass and Castiel becomes more disheartened by his lack of success in locating his Father, Dean returns the favour, allowing the angel to air his doubts and confusion with little complaint so long as it does not require a so called 'chick flick moment'.

Castiel comes to treasure the moments that they have together, their time alone.

Slowly he begins to realise that spending all of this time alone with Dean is not helping to lessen his desire for the hunter, though it does help him to keep control a little better than he has been. He is starting to wonder if Dean has begun to notice the way that he watches the hunter, to wonder if others have noticed the changes in his behaviour and demeanor, the way that more often than not these days he can be found in the company of if not one, then _both_ of the Winchesters.

The problem is, he is also beginning to resent Sam. It starts small, a tightening in his stomach and a hardening behind his eyes, and to begin with he can brush it off as the lingering after effects of Dean's rants and later his own. As time goes on, however, Castiel begins to feel Sam's presence as more and more of an intrusion upon his time with Dean. Every time that Sam returns from a walk to cool off or calls Dean and tells him to stop being an ass and come back to the room, the angel feels more and more like he is losing out on something special with Dean, something that Sam gets to see and experience that he does not.

He knows that the whole thing is completely irrational. The trouble is that knowing how foolish he is being is by no means changing the way that the situation as it stands is making him feel. If he is honest he is not sure how he should be dealing with all of this anyway.

Sometimes Castiel believes that he does not see the real Dean when Sam is around and other times he is convinced of the complete opposite. When Sam is in the room Dean will not discuss his concerns, will not let his fears see the light of day, rather he bottles them all up, internalises them and encourages Castiel to do the same so that they can present a united front before Sam, so that they can be strong to protect a younger brother who no longer wants to be protected. When Sam is not around Dean seems to be happy enough to share some measure of his real thoughts because he does not have to maintain the facade that he knows very well Castiel can see straight through.

When the opposite is true to Castiel it is often when Dean smiles, that rare, genuine, one where his eyes sparkle and his soul glows. Castiel rarely sees that smile directed at him, as much as he would like to. Sometimes he sees it bestowed upon Bobby, but more often than not, it is Sam who draws it out of Dean. It is not used often, but Sam can bring it to the fore with a gentle comment or a fond memory. It makes something in Castiel twist to see Sam gain what the angel believes should be his.

He knows that Dean really has to have noticed that something is wrong by now, that something between Castiel and Sam has changed drastically when they had managed to settle into a wary friendship. Dean is not blind, he will have seen the way that the angel glares at Sam when the younger man is not looking, will have noticed the icy greetings and chill leave takings. Castiel knows that this is not because he dislikes the young hunter, not really, not when they had built the foundations for a good friendship, if only really for Dean's sake, because Castiel is certain that the relationship would have been strengthened over time if Lucifer had not unleashed whatever darkness this is that lurks deep inside Castiel's soul. The angel stays quiet when dealing with the young man because he is not entirely certain that he would be able to keep the resentment he feels hidden if he were to open his mouth and actually _talk_ to Sam.

For his part, Sam seems to be as unaffected by Castiel's irrational dislike as he ever has been and, as of yet, Dean has not commented on the matter, seemingly content to let the whole thing lie until something either _has_ to be done, or Castiel is ready to talk about it, whichever comes first. Sooner or later, Castiel knows that the subject will come up and that he will have to stop avoiding the matter. Until then he resolves to try and get along better with Sam.

It is not easy.

One of the problems is that Castiel is starting to convince himself that the brothers would be better off apart, even though he _knows_ that this is not the case. A part of this, he knows, is down to his desire to see the possible future with Dean that he saw become an _actual_ one and he knows that with Sam around that will never happen. This does not change the fact than an ever decreasing part of him knows that Sam not being around would be a bad thing, a very bad thing. He is painfully aware of the fact that without Dean's support, Sam will be all that much more susceptible to Lucifer's half truths and empty vows. Dean grounds Sam and, to an extent, Sam grounds Dean, one without the other is simply a ticking bomb waiting to go off, Castiel knows it, heaven knows it, Lucifer knows it.

For the time being he is listening to the smaller part of him, his focus still mostly on the path of '_find Father, stop Lucifer_' rather than '_grab Dean and persuade him using teeth, tongue, hands and lips that sex with each other is a better idea_'.

This does not mean that Castiel does not have his fantasies. If anything, the angel is learning that his imagination is far more vivid than he had ever realised.

_Can we guess what might be coming next? And why are the damn bunnies multiplying?_

_Artemis  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_Ok, so this one was a little bit harder to write, I always find this kind of thing hard and this was no exception. It didn't help that I started it all at work, I swear I have never been more cagey about my writing in my _life_! In other news, I'll be at a work party on Saturday and a family thing on Sunday (grandma is 70!) so I won't get an update out this weekend. Hence everything being superfast at the moment._

Chapter Four.

Castiel watches as hot water cascades over bare skin that is lightly covered in the scars that make up only the smallest fraction of a hard lived life. Muscles flex and ripple across broad shoulders as one arm works to hold the man upright, braced heavily against the shower wall, while the other moves with a gradually increasing rhythm. Softly hissed profanities are interspersed with the gentle mutter of the angel's name drip from between unseen lips, barely audible above the steady drum of water on tiles.

Castiel steps forward, the sound of worn leather shoes loud over the almost quiet of running water and harsh breathing. Muscles tense and green eyes that are blackened with lust meet blues ones that are just as dark. Their gazes lock for a long moment, everything around them seeming to fade away, and Castiel moves from his position by the door to the inside of the shower stall without even registering that he has changed position, too lost in the heat of Dean's eyes as they sear into him. He only becomes aware of the change in his location when he feels a stream of water striking his face and seeping through his clothes.

Then Dean's lips are on his, the hunter's hands battling with wet tie, coat, shirt and pants, almost like he does not know which he would rather remove first, just that the clothes being removed is more important than the order in which he takes them off. Castiel feels the tiles on the wall hit his back with what should be bruising force as Dean pushes him against it, sending any air that the angel had in his lungs racing out and even then he cannot bring himself to break away from the kiss.

Dean's skin is wet, soft and slick under the warm water and his mouth tastes of coffee, cinnamon and apples. The combination of taste and touch is intoxicating and Castiel knows that the only thing that could make this better would be the total absence of clothes. Fortunately, Dean is utterly determined to make it so and after a brief struggle they are kicking the angel's clothes and shoes out of the stall.

The heat of Dean's skin is a marked contrast to the tiles at Castiel's back and he moans low in his throat when the hunter's fingers brush lightly against a sensitive nipple, causing him to jerk forward and he can feel the delicious friction of Dean's erection rubbing against his own. His head falls back against the tiles as the hunter reaches between them, takes them both in his hand while his teeth graze at Castiel's neck.

The angel knows that he is close to the edge when he meets Dean's eyes, sees the utter need and desire in them, hears his name falling from the hunter's lips and barely comprehends Dean's order for him to turn around before he is being spun roughly, legs parted and cold tiles pressed against his chest as Dean gropes wildly for the soap, his breath hot in the angel's ear. When the hunter breaches him Castiel whines at the strangeness of it, the brief pain quickly replaced with something else as Dean's lips ghost across his shoulders, almost indistinguishable from the light fall of water, and the hunter's fingers twist, drawing a yell from the angel that has nothing at all to do with pain or strangeness.

All too soon, and at once not soon enough, fingers are removed and replaced with something heavier, something larger, and it feels just like it should always have been this way. The rhythm Dean uses is easy, one that makes him see stars with every thrust and when Dean once again wraps his hand around Castiel's erection, the angel cannot hold back any longer, closing his eyes and shouting Dean's name as he flings his head back.

He opens his eyes in a dark room, his skin dry, his body clothes and he is alone. He feels a moment of shame that he has allowed himself to indulge in this fantasy, allowed himself a chance to enjoy that which he has been purposefully avoiding taking. It takes little more than a thought to clean himself up, to lock the disappointment of unfulfilled fantasies deep inside him and to make his way to the motel room where he left Sam and Dean, the motel room that sparked the fantasy in the first place.

They are asleep, just as they were when he left them and he turns his attention to Dean as soon as he arrives, watching the way that emotions play over the hunter's face, a moment of peace seeming to be interrupted by something darker, something more sinister, and Castiel recognises this one, knows it as grief because he saw it on Dean's face the day that Jo and Ellen died, and before on the day that he realised that Sam was turning from him. Castiel has seen that expression on the hunter so many times and it pains him in a way that he cannot describe that he has also caused Dean to feel that. It has never been his intention to hurt the hunter, even when his orders told him that he must and he wonders if his fascination, his _need_, for Dean stems more from the time that he pulled the hunter from hell than it does from long acquaintance or Lucifer's tricks.

Dean's sleep is not peaceful, not enough that the man will remain asleep for much longer, and Castiel knows that if Dean were to wake and see him stood at the end of the bed watching, questions will be asked and accusations made and the angel is neither in the mood or the mental place to deal with that now, so he takes a step back, turns his attention to Sam who seems to be sleeping far more peacefully than he ought.

That thought brings another line of reasoning to Castiel's mind, another thing for him to think about and consider, the fact that Sam is the reason that all of these terrible things have happened to Dean. Dean sold his soul to protect Sam, Dean lost his childhood caring for Sam, Dean endlessly returns to the side of a younger brother who pretends not to need him and acts like he does not want him. It makes Castiel wish that Sam really would leave, that Dean would have a chance to grieve and move on so that he could start to live his own life rather than the one dictated by his brother. Deep down, Castiel knows that even if Sam _does_ go, Dean will always be dictated and ruled by Sam's choices and actions. It makes the angel's heart weep.

A low mutter from Dean's bed brings Castiel's attention back and he looks over as Dean sits up, sheets slipping to expose muscular chest and abdomen to the faint light from the street lamps that filters through the cheap curtains. The anti-possession tattoo is stark against his skin and there is the faintest sheen of sweat that makes the light glimmer. It almost makes Castiel smile and he reigns it in with difficulty when his sharp eyes make out the expression on Dean's face.

It is not one of sleepy content, or deprived aggravation, such as Castiel would expect, it is something else, something hurt and horrified and the words are out of Castiel's mouth before he thinks.

"What has happened?" He asks, head tilting to one side and eyes wide against the darkness.

"Your brother is a dick," Dean tells him as Castiel perches on the end of the bed, careful not to touch Dean because he is not sure what he will do if he does.

"So you have stated on a number of occasions," the angel nods, privately agreeing with Dean even though this _is_ about his family. "Although you will have to enlighten me as to which one." It is a gentle push, or as gentle as Castiel is capable of being since he is still not completely comfortable with the human way of handling things.

"Michael," Dean hisses and something in Castiel goes cold.

_I probably need to make it clear right now, I have _nothing_ against Sam, really, it's just that he's too good a target for what's going on with Cas._

_Artemis  
_


	5. Chapter 5

_These seem to be getting shorter. Never mind, I'm sure as I get further through they'll get longer, besides I threw myself a curve ball at the end of that last chapter that's been forcing me to rethink how I was going to handle this one and now I'm changing plot elements for the future. _

_In other news my nan's 70th was everything that I expected it to be and work parties are just asking for trouble on every level, remind me never to touch wine again.  
_

Chapter Five.

Castiel has known that this will happen eventually, that sooner or later Michael would realise that sending others to do his dirty work is not yielding the required result and that he would have to approach the hunter himself in some way. Given that Michael is never going to take an 'inferior' vessel to tide himself over until Dean gives in to him, it only left visiting Dean's mind as he sleeps.

Just knowing that Michael has been inside Dean's mind makes Castiel feels nauseous. Even if his brothers see Dean as little more than a vessel for their general, their leader in the absence of their Father, the angel believes that Dean should be respected to a far greater level than his brothers have ever shown. After all, there are not many who could go through the things that Dean has and still stand firmly by his convictions. Another thing that hurts Castiel, and he hurts _for_ Dean at this stage because he knows that the hunter will never be able to fully express the depth of his own pain, is the fact that Michael used the image of Mary Winchester in his attempt to contact Dean.

Once upon a time, the hunter idolised both of his parents, but the years have been hard and Dean has learnt a number of things lately that have shown him that neither of his parents even came close to the ideal that he held them under. If anything, the image of a mother who sold Dean's brother to Azazel, knowingly or not, is more likely to provoke rage in the hunter rather than an understanding. It is at least a relief to know that his familiarity with Dean leads him to an accurate interpretation of the events, that he can count on the hunter to tell even Michael to 'shove it' in the face of pressure from a powerful being wearing his mother's image. Castiel knows, however, that were Dean not so absolutely essential, Michael would have him killed for his impertinence.

Castiel does not like to imagine a world without Dean.

All of them are angry with Michael's audacity, though Sam seems to be the least surprised of the three and the least upset by this turn of events. Castiel wonders if the younger brother maybe had some inkling that this was going to happen. Given Lucifer's actions over the last month, he supposes that this should have been less of a nasty shock than it already was. Lucifer is just the sort to take on the visage of a dead lover, to appeal to the baser side of human instinct, Michael is more likely to take the form of a figure of authority, of platonic love, a parent or sibling. Castiel thinks that he should have warned the two boys that this may have been a possibility, that he was too wrapped up in personal tragedy first and personal lust second to even think about it.

The thought of Lucifer brings up that other set of problems, the ones that revolve around the words, _Dean_ and _mine_ in the same three word sentence. It is getting harder to be in a room with Dean now, with the daydreams that are growing increasingly graphic, increasingly arousing, and the dark thoughts that Sam's presence constantly causes. It seems that they have both noticed, Dean cornering Castiel and berating him on the subject when Sam goes to the bathroom to shower. Unable to explain himself, Castiel has mojoed out and taken himself somewhere he can be alone.

It is not as remote as he thought it would be.

"Hello, Castiel," Lucifer's vessel is in no better condition than it was the last time that the angel saw his fallen brother, in fact, if anything, Nick is more damaged. Were Castiel not so focussed on other matters, he would feel a moment of sympathy for the man that Lucifer has so blithely destroyed.

"What have you done to me?" He demands, even though the dark part of him is crying out in joy at the presence of Lucifer, the presence of the one who gave it freedom.

"You did this to yourself," a stolen face smirks, "I merely made you more aware of that which you have been ignoring." There is no ring of holy fire about him this time, no traps or sigils seared into the grass or trees. The only damage to Lucifer's vessel is the rotting, wasted, flesh on face, hands and arms. The only thing that is preventing Castiel from attacking his brother is his own certainty that he is no match for the fallen angel. This does little to reassure him.

"I don't want this," he snaps, watches the most serene of smiles flitter across Lucifer's features.

"He has made you so _human_, Castiel," false sorrow and pity decorates the edges of his tone, "eventually this was all going to surface. I simply gave you a nudge." Castiel shakes his head, turns his back and knows that he should leave, should take the opportunity to run before Lucifer tempts him further. "Join me."

"And you will give me Dean?" There is a mocking note to Castiel's voice and the angel is not sure whether that is really what he wants.

"You don't need _me_ to take him if you want him," Lucifer points out, "as soon as the idiot can admit it to himself, he is yours. I simply promise not to _kill_ him." Castiel turns to look uncertainly at his brother. "Of course if that is truly not what you want, Castiel, I can always take all of this away." As soon as the offer is made, Lucifer is gone. The angel is left on his own to think and not for the first time since his last encounter with Lucifer, Castiel wishes that he had someone he could talk to.

Instead he stands in an open glade somewhere in the world and stars up at the stars, brilliant now, and no longer obscured by artificial lights. He cannot comprehend what it is that Lucifer stands to gain by constantly torturing him in this manner, by always offering him that which he knows he should not want and can never have. Besides, even if Lucifer's words were true, and there is a big part of Castiel that actually wants to believe him, Dean will never do anything about it with Sam around.

Which leads Castiel to a thought that he has had a number of times but has never entertained with any seriousness, if he can simply get rid of Sam, even if only for a few hours, he might actually stand a chance of getting what he wants with Dean. In that moment he allows himself to forget that pushing Sam away from Dean once more may be all that it takes for Lucifer to persuade the younger man to become his vessel, he allows himself to imagine that it is just Dean and him looking for his Father and trying to find a way to stop Lucifer.

At no point does he actually consider joining Lucifer. In the whole mess, that is the only thing that appears as his saving grace, the very fact that the thought of joining his fallen brother still sickens him. Secretly, he suspects that if Dean were to ever find out about the things that Lucifer has offered him, the temptation to take Lucifer up on that offer, the hunter would push him away as hard and as fast as he could. In fact, Dean would probably even punch him again and given the state of Castiel's power at the moment, the angel is not sure if he would still be as impervious to it as he once was.

_Ok, so this has become far more angsty than I thought it would when I started it. I worry about my brain._

_Artemis_


	6. Chapter 6

_Originally this was going to be all Castiel, then this chapter hit me and would not go away. Once again I blame Londo, miserable plot bunny that he is. Still, plans change and hopefully the end will make up for it a little bit. I also had a very dull day at work. If this is the result of one of those, I should have them more often._

Chapter Six.

Dean Winchester's dreams are not such a nice place to be anymore, not since Hell and Sam dying and all that. These days if it is not images of the pit and his demonic master intruding upon his subconscious, it is the days that Sam spent dead, his brother dying in his arms any one of a number of ways, or it is the angels. Mostly the last week it has been angels, one in particular, and Dean would be happy if he never saw the smug being who has stolen his mother's face again.

"Hello, Dean," his mother's voice is just as he has always remembered it, soft, feminine, loving and _young_, he has never really appreciated how young she really was when she died. Now he knows and he understands and that does not make him resent Michael any less.

"Michael," Dean hisses and wishes that he had something to recline against or sit on or a weapon of any sort, because having this archangel in his head just makes him feel afraid, makes him feel vulnerable and violated and for a long moment he even wishes that he had Castiel at his back.

This time Dean has to admit that he does not really pay any attention when Michael starts talking again, he lets his mind wander. Besides he has heard all of this before, had heard how it is his duty to accept Michael in so that mankind can be led to paradise and Lucifer can be killed and so on and so forth. Dean is not really buying into it and he knows that Michael is aware of the fact that he is not paying him any heed. Neither one seems to care overly about that.

Instead Dean thinks about all the things he would rather be doing, or dreaming about. He could be dreaming about pie, or his car, fishing or even being back in Hell again would be preferable to this. Sex, he could also be dreaming about that and given his experience Dean could be having a great deal of variety in that department. He thinks about all the faces he could see, about the waitress at the dinner that evening, the brunette at the gas station, Castiel against the motel room wall and he hastily scrubs that one from his thoughts as he turns his attention to Michael for a moment. The archangel looks disapproving but does not comment on Dean's thoughts so the hunter goes back to his preferred distraction, thinking about the twins from two days ago, all soft curves and big blue eyes and dark hair that could not be tamed.

Against his better judgement that leads him straight back to thoughts of Castiel again, of bending the angel over the hood of the Impala and taking him hard and fast and messily, of laying Cas in his bed and taking their time, whispering promises into the darkness of a alleyway in an unknown town, in the shower, frantic and urgent, soft and slow and Dean figures that the reason all of these images are not freaking him out overly is because this is a dream. He refuses to admit that any one of these has been a fantasy of his at some point or another relatively recently.

"...so that Lucifer can lay claim to him." Michael almost snaps and Dean's turns his attention from his private fantasies, which he is embarrassed to realise have given him quite an impressive erection, to the archangel who is staring at him from his mother's body with something akin to annoyance, if such creatures can feel such things.

"Lucifer isn't getting his hands on Sam," Dean tells him, watches as eyebrows shoot up and comes to the conclusion that Sam is not the one that Michael was talking about.

"Samuel is not the one that I went to the trouble of returning to you, Dean." The hunter thinks for a long moment before the answer to the question he has not asked comes to him. Cas. Michael nods when he breathes the name of the rebel angel. "I had hoped that Castiel would realise the error of his ways and aid me in persuading you that becoming my vessel would be the only way to win this war. Unlike my Father, I am not infallible."

With that the archangel is gone and Dean wakes up in his motel room with a start, lying in the almost darkness, broken by a line of light through partly open curtains, and listens to the reassuring sound of Sam snoring lightly to one side of him. Under the bedclothes he can tell that he is still hard, uncomfortably so, and since a glance at the red numbers of the bedside clock tells him that he will need to be up and about in less than an hour, he decides to take advantage of the extra, and evidently much needed, alone time.

He pads quietly into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and turning the shower on before pulling off boxers and t-shirt. He stands under the water with his eyes closed for a long moment, trailing his hands down his stomach before taking himself in them, biting back a gasp at the shudder that runs through him simply from the feeling of his own hand. For a moment he tries to imagine that it is a woman rather than himself, then decides that since thoughts of Castiel started all of his, thoughts of Castiel can finish it too.

Dean knows what he likes, and soon he is stroking himself to completion, firmly and without any hesitation as he imagines Castiel's mouth on him, imagines the angel on his knees before him and staring upwards with innocent blue eyes as the hunter thrusts into his mouth over and over. It is not long before he is muffling his cries for the angel with his palm, back pressed against the tiles and eyes clenched shut against the harsh glare of the bathroom light and the loneliness of reality as hot water pounds against his face and his legs tremble beneath him.

It takes a long moment until he can open his eyes, a moment where he becomes more and more aware of the feeling of someone watching him and after taking a second to compose himself he opens them, meeting Castiel's stunned gaze. He hopes for a foolish minute that the angel has not been stood there long, that he did not see or hear Dean's actions. He wants to explain, to try and find some excuse, except that he is naked and wet and even though he is not a teenager anymore, his body is trying it's best to do an impression of it at the sight of the angel's darkened, lust filled, eyes.

"Cas," the name is a harsh breath and a stunned gasp as he takes a step away from the wall, because, until this moment, Dean has never before considered just _how_ much he _wants_ Castiel. For the first time Dean can _feel_ the tension in the air around him as he realises how intense the angel's gaze is and even though a part of him is quietly freaking out, a larger part of him is focussing on the _want_ and the _now_ and foolishly he thinks that this has never felt more right.

Castiel is obviously not on the same page, however, taking two steps closer before vanishing and leaving Dean alone in the steamy room with nothing more than a head full of confused fantasies. He shakes his head and scrubs himself clean, uncertainty beginning to set in now that he has had a moment to cool off a little.

What he wants to do right now is freak out, because Castiel just saw him and heard him and there is no way that the angel is usually Dean's type. Except that, in some truly bizarre way, he is and Dean has to chase that thought from his head before he can pursue it too much further.

Besides, his focus right now should be more on coming up with a believable excuse to give to Sam when his brother realises that the awkward between the hunter and the angel has just shot up a notch.

_I promise, I'm not utterly shower fixated, but I do have a reason behind this one that will be fully explained in time. Not all that much time if I carry on the way that I am._

_Artemis  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_This one didn't want to come, for some odd reason it wouldn't, mostly because Dean wanted one thing, Cas wanted another and I wanted something completely different. Added to which I need to get another part of the plot in, who also isn't playing nice, and it wasn't until I started listening to Nightwish on repeat that it started to come._

Chapter Seven.

Castiel knows what he saw and he knows what he heard, _thinks_ he saw and heard, because Dean pleasuring himself in the shower, whispering needy cries and gasping the angel's name as he reaches his peak cannot possibly have been real.

Nor can he bring himself to believe that it was a lust and desire to match his own that he saw in Dean's eyes when the hunter approached him. He _cannot_ allow himself to believe it because if he does, he does not think that he will be able to control himself. Instead he takes a moment to try and convince himself that it was all in his mind, that his fantasies have begun to intrude themselves upon reality.

He does not for a second stop to wonder if everything that he saw was the truth.

He waits a few hours, until Dean has had the chance to calm down a little, until his wrath has abated just enough that he will not attack the angel as soon as he appears in the motel room. The silence of the room when he arrives is no great surprise, nor is the fact that Dean will not look at him, but Sam's evident confusion is. Castiel realises that Dean has not said anything to his brother about the incident in the bathroom and that he has, perhaps, misjudged the hunter. If anything that makes him feel worse about that whole thing.

It makes him wonder how humans cope with the lust, how they can see the person that they want everyday and not jump on them.

He is not foolish, is not completely stupid. He knows that Lucifer wants him so that he can get to Sam, knows that once Lucifer has the younger Winchester the world is utterly doomed, but some how he does not want to care. He just wants to have something for himself and even though he knows that it is selfish of him to sacrifice the world just so that he can get what he wants, it is just that part of him does not want to care.

He tells them that Lucifer has approached him again, that his fallen brother wants him to side with Hell rather than humanity. He has decided that Dean needs to know it because he thinks that maybe by telling the hunters they can find some way to fix this and make it so that he does not have these feelings, these desires for the one that he pulled from Hell.

"What's he offering you?" Sam asks, and once again Castiel feels a tug of aggravation at the presence of the younger man, even though he knows that it is simply another part of having Dean around, knows that since he is not giving in to Lucifer, Sam is going to remain right here where he can keep an eye on his brother. For a long moment the angel lets his eyes linger on Dean, fears that Sam will take this as his answer even though he rarely looks anywhere other than at the elder Winchester anyway.

"It isn't important," he lies, because it _is_, it is far more important than he could ever really express and somehow he realises that he wants it more, _needs_ it more, than he wants or needs his Father.

"Then why tell us?" Dean snaps and out the corner of his eye, Castiel sees Sam frown at his brother's tone, another indication that there is something seriously wrong between the two of them.

"I felt you should be aware of Lucifer's interest in me," Castiel responds, not sure why Dean is so upset that he is revealing this piece of information.

"Great," Dean dead pans, eyes flat as he takes a step nearer to Castiel. "Any closer to finding a way to _kill_ him?" He demands, coming closer still, so closer that they are almost touching and the angel's nose fills with the smell of gun oil, coffee and a musky sort of spice that is all Dean. He takes a deep breath that he does not really need and tries to slam his focus into the here and now rather than think about what he saw that morning.

"I am still searching for my Father, and I'm also exploring a number of other alternatives." Out the corner of one eye, Castiel sees Sam grab a jacket and keys, hears him mutter something about going to get lunch, evidently made uncomfortable by the obvious tension between the two of them. The angel does not try to stop the younger brother leaving and even though Dean is not annoyed enough he will bring up his reasons for it in front of Sam, he does not stop his brother either.

Castiel stares up at Dean as the hunter glares down at him, as he says that maybe the angel should be focussed more on finding those answers than watching him in the shower. Something in Castiel's jaw twitches for a moment as he feels something in his tear at Dean's tone.

"Very well," he forces the words out from between clenched teeth, takes a moment of pleasure at the surprise on Dean's face and wills himself away, not caring where he ends up so long as it is not in a room with the hunter when his immediate urge is to slam Dean against a wall and take what he wants from him.

In truth, Castiel really has been looking into a number of other options, one of which involves none other than the brother who abandoned them in favour of the hedonistic life of a pagan god. After all, Uriel once told him that only an angel can kill another angel. Perhaps Gabriel can be persuaded, though the ability to do so is now far out of his range of power. He would have shared this plan with Dean, except that he has a feeling that this idea was the one that caused the rogue archangel to banish them to a world of television mockeries in the first place. Still, at least trying to work out how to trick a trickster into helping them has kept his mind off Dean.

As for his other plan, there is a certain spear, one that pierced the side of the Son when he walked the Earth. He is reluctant to put that one into action, mostly because he does not think he will be able to get be near it, and partly because once they have the spear it will be almost impossible to get close enough to Lucifer to _use_ it.

With his Father still completely out of reach, and Gabriel utterly determined to let Lucifer and Michael fight it out between them without getting involved, it is looking like the spear might well be the only option that they have left. They will need it after that, with the fallen Morning Star gone, Castiel really will be the main focus of Heaven, more despised than the one who became the first fallen angel because he rebelled in the name of a _man_ not because he could not spare love from his Father.

Castiel has come to understand what Lucifer has not, however, he has come to understand that, in truth, none of his brethren ever loved mankind as their father ordered they should. Even he never really felt a desire to save them, at least, never before Dean, and the brilliance of the hunter's soul and the feelings that it brought forth within him had been baffling and terrifying.

Slowly, a terrible suspicion begins to filter into the angel's mind even as he feels the presence of another at his back.

_Evil cliffie of doom! _

_Artemis_


	8. Chapter 8

_I had a random idea, unless Londo has found water wings I can't blame this one on him, I would love to though. Regardless, random ideas assaulted me and I ran with it all._

Chapter Eight.

Gabriel is beginning to lose his patience with Castiel, not that this is any big surprise really. From his last encounter with the angel, the former archangel had believed that he would be easily tempted and easily intimidated. Turns out he may have been wrong.

As it stands, he cannot believe how lucky he has been with Lucifer's unknowing cooperation in the whole thing, approaching Castiel and making him the very offer that has allowed Gabriel to start manipulating him, and then _continuing_ to approach the falling angel to renew the offer for purposes of his own that Gabriel does not understand and never wants to for that matter either.

That Michael has taken it into his head to start interfering now could be a problem, of course it could also work out quite nicely in the grand scheme of things. Naturally, Michael's more aggressive interest in Dean is a concern for the archangel, in that in interferes with his plans as far as Castiel and Sam are concerned, but in another way, he thinks that maybe it will help to _forward_ them.

Michael has been both tardy and premature in his approaching of Dean, Gabriel thinks, the grief Dean feels at the death of his friends is not fresh enough and he has the people he holds most dear as close to him as he can get them. That is one thing that Gabriel is certain of, Dean is fond of Castiel, very fond of him. The archangel has been hiding on Earth for a long time, he knows how to recognise the depths of a person's emotions, even when said person has not even admitted it to themselves.

As for Castiel, well, the angel has never truly experienced such intense emotions before, has never been in the position to and so Gabriel knows that he will not be sure how to react to them. In a way, the key that Lucifer provided has proved far more useful to the archangel than he ever believed it would and given the dark and tarnished state of Castiel's grace, manipulating him has been easy, far easier than Gabriel had anticipated. The state of the falling angel's grace has also made it easier to locate him, the only discordant, isolated, note in a chorus that Gabriel has not heard in too many centuries.

Gabriel has spent so many years in his disguise as a trickster god that he knows how to bend and manipulate. For countless decades he has meted out justice and punishment to those who society will not, to those guilty of a hubris that would put Lucifer and Michael to shame. This is not justice, not in the traditional sense, and nor is it punishment, but the basic principle of it is the same. To manipulate and twist reality so that only a grain of truth remains where the illusion unfolds and all of this effort is going into isolating Sam, isolating Dean, isolating Castiel. Without the Winchesters, Castiel will fold and crumble under the pressure and without Sam and his angel, Dean will lose his main focus for staying in control of himself.

Gabriel has no interest in ensuring that a future such as the one that Zachariah showed Dean comes to pass, and he is certainly inquisitive enough to have taken a peek at it, he does not want Dean still oozing defiance in the face of Lucifer while the rest of the host have abandoned the Earth, he most certainly does not want Castiel half passed out from substance abuse most the time. What he needs is the three of them on their own.

Sam will be the easiest to drive away, he thinks, using the darker, more obsessive, part of his younger brother to push the taller hunter out of Dean's life. After that, Dean will be next, simply through the exposure of Sam's acquiescence to Lucifer due to Castiel's actions. Gabriel has been encountering the Winchester brothers, and many of their ilk, for a long time, he knows that such behaviour will not be tolerated by Dean, even in one that the hunter loves. The only stumbling block that Gabriel has come across is that of Castiel's apparent need to resist temptation.

It is very annoying.

It is not like Gabriel has not been giving them both a lot to work with, he knows that Dean has an active imagination when it comes to these sorts of things, but there is never any harm in giving the slower Winchester a little bit of a nudge. He already _had_ the fantasies, Gabriel just made them a little bit more prominent in his memory. As for Castiel, well, there his brother is infuriatingly innocent. Were it not for the tantalising snippet that Lucifer treated the angel to almost six weeks ago, Gabriel would have nothing to really work with aside from the feelings that Castiel is too inexperienced to identify.

Point of the matter is, he all but threw Castiel into the bathroom with Dean this morning so that rather than hitting the angel with a two by four, and it is remarkably tempting to do just that right now, he could simply chuck everything in his face. Instead, little brother goes into a state of exaggerated denial and Dean gets angry. If he were not an angel, an immortal, it would be giving him a headache.

When Castiel finally senses his presence, and really he must be losing his control of his grace more rapidly than Gabriel thought if it has taken him this long, the archangel is munching absently on a candy bar of indeterminate make, he long ago learnt that so long as it was a sweet snack that he nibbled on, the illusion of the trickester god would be maintained. It has become a habit now and one that he has little interest in breaking. Besides, the sugar serves as a sort of reward for not running screaming into the universe at the kind of pornographic images he has been forced to endure whilst perusing the head of both hunter and younger brother.

The lesser angel's eyes narrow when he sees his brother, it gives Gabriel a sense of simulated happiness that even though his last encounter with the angel ended in a rather humiliating fashion, he still makes Castiel wary. Gabriel leans casually against the tree behind him, part of him is revelling in being known for what he truly is and being able to be himself around his younger brother, another part fears that Castiel will expose the truth to his superiors. In a way, this is just another method of getting the slipped angel out of his way.

"Why are you here?" Castiel asks and Gabriel shrugs, continuing to watch him through shrewd eyes that see far too much. Castiel looks worn, tired and desperate and for some reason that does not evoke the pride in his work that Gabriel has expected, instead it makes him feel like something of a bastard. It makes him feel no better than Michael or Lucifer, each playing everyone else off against the rest and watching as the world slowly implodes. This was his Father's most perfect creation and all that the rest of them are doing, angel, demon and human combined, is destroying it and each other.

The realisation brings to mind an answer to the question he has been asking since he brought himself into this form of witness protection, the question of why his Father left. He could not stand to see his creations destroying one another. It changes nothing. He has a goal and he is going to stick with it.

"I heard you'd been looking for me," he smirks, takes the final bite of the candy bar into his mouth and chews slowly as he feels Castiel's gaze on his mouth, watching the archangel chew and swallow with a measure of curiosity. "You should try it," Gabriel mutters, "you might find you like it." Somehow, the archangel knows that the one in the taller vessel is aware that he is not just referring to the chocolate.

_Artemis_


	9. Chapter 9

_Fanfic hasn't been sending out alerts, I hate when it does that, but never mind. Without them I've been focused enough to get another chapter out. Besides which, it's cold here, so if anyone knows of a Castiel anywhere that I can snuggle up to can you please send him my way?_

Chapter Nine.

When he thinks on it, Castiel knows that he always knew he was not going to get Gabriel to side with them with just one meeting. He is not even certain that another four or five or even thirty meetings will convince Gabriel that he has both the power and the motivation to end this himself. After all, Gabriel is still an archangel, no matter what he may have done to himself.

What is perhaps more frustrating is the fact that Gabriel seems to know what Castiel feels, what Castiel _wants_ from Dean. Not only does the archangel know what Castiel wants, he is encouraging it and that is quite possibly the last thing that the angel would have thought the other would do. Then again, Gabriel has been living the life of a pagan god for centuries, it stands to reason that the archangel would know all about the pleasure such actions can offer. He finds himself envious of the existence Gabriel has been brave enough to create for himself.

After a long moment, however, he realises that all of Gabriel's actions are not born of bravery, but of cowardice and he feels the deep coil of pity for his brother. They are both alone and both cut off from their family, the only difference is that Castiel has someone to turn to and someone who will treat him as a friend while Gabriel has no one. No wonder the archangel wants it all to end, it is as much for himself as it is for the rest of the world. Castiel is fairly certain that if he had to spent an eternity so cut off, he would go insane.

Castiel is not sure why Gabriel truly deigned to grace him with his presence, but he does know that it cannot possibly be a good thing that the archangel has sought him out. Abruptly he is gripped by a deep concern for Dean's safety, a powerful need to go to the hunter's side and check that he is as untouched and unharmed as he was when Castiel left this afternoon. Somehow even the thought that Dean will still be angry with him for the events of the morning cannot deter the angel.

After his talk with Gabriel, part of Castiel understands why Dean is angry, he understands that what he appeared in the middle of was something intensely private and embarrassing for hunter and angel alike. It does not mean that Castiel has to put up with that anger. When he reaches the brothers, however, both have retired to their beds, Sam sleeping peacefully while Dean shifts and mumbles, the faint presence of an older brother who is relentless in his desire to see the hunter under his control fills the atmosphere around the man. Dean mutters something in his sleep and Castiel's head whips first to the older hunter, then to the younger, half expecting Sam to stir at the sound and wake.

The man does not move, does not stir and even as a moment of angry disapproval runs through Castiel's mind at the thought that Sam can sleep through the sounds of obvious anger and distress that are starting to issue from Dean's lips, the angel presses fingers lightly against the young hunter's head anyway, willing him into a deeper sleep before settling on the floor beside Dean's bed, head leaning back against it as he slips carefully into the hunter's dreams.

It is not as easy to do now as it was in the past, especially with a very powerful being waiting for him on the other side and his waning grace. What he does know is that Michael is inside Dean's head once more, and he is again trying to intimidate the hunter into saying yes. It is all that Castiel _needs_ to know at this point, because as far as he is concerned, if anyone is going to have Dean, it will be him, and no archangel, fallen or otherwise, is going to say any differently. The bravado is enough and it allows him to slip into the man's head a little more easily.

Castiel has seen Mary Winchester a number of times, both as the young woman that Dean tried to save from Azazel's manipulations and as the woman who died in Sam's nursery. It was his duty to know every aspect of Dean's life when he was still responsible for ensuring that the hunter was at least supervised some of the time. Even though it is obvious that Michael has chosen the form of Mary to use as a disguise in front of Dean, Castiel can understand how the hunter figured out so quickly that this was not his mother. There is no warmth to her, no love, no real emotion at all.

His instant thought is that there is no wonder Dean's distress is beginning to show in the real world. Zachariah may have been all about the physical side of persuasion, and in all the wrong ways, but Michael seems to be the sort to be more focussed on the most terrible ways that he can mess with Dean's head. From appearing to the hunter as his mother, to forcing him to watch a clone of himself torturing another, Michael is taking every piece of information that they have gathered on Dean Winchester and using all of his fears and all of his darkness against him. A man who has been to Hell is always going to have some very deep seated angst issues.

"You see, Dean," Michael is saying, "all of the terrible things that you have done, all of the awful impulses that you still carry within your soul, those dark desires that no man should feel or want, don't you want it all to go away?"

"Screw you," Dean responds, trying to turn his gaze away from the images Michael is showing him. The archangel does not let him, will not allow Dean to run from this truth, grabbing the hunter's chin and forcing him to look at the body on the rack. Castiel is shaken to realise that it is him.

"This is what will happen to him, because of you, you brought my brother to this, Dean, and he will never thank you for it. Say yes and Castiel will be forgiven, this will never have to happen."

"Dean," the angel cuts in, quickly squashing a momentary surge of hope at Michael's words. He _wants_ forgiveness, he wants his family, but not at the expense of the man he desires. "Leave him alone, Michael." Castiel orders, then, even though he knows that there is nothing that he can do if the archangel decides to stay.

Dean apparently has another plan, because he surges out of Michael's grasp and kisses Castiel as though the angel is a life line. The thing of it all is, Castiel has wanted to kiss Dean for so long that when it gets down to it actually _happening_ he freezes. He is aware of two things, the first being that Michael seems utterly unsurprised by this turn of events, and the second being that Dean is completely convinced that his being here is a dream, which means that he is confused about why Castiel is not kissing him back, because this is all in his head which makes it acceptable.

Castiel is not entirely sure why that thought hurts as much as it does, but he decides that at this precise moment he does not care, because whether Dean believes he is a dream or not, the hunter is kissing him and that is what Castiel wants. He allows himself to return the kiss, feels a moan rise in his throat at the pressure of Dean's fingers on his elbows and lips on his own and he _wants._

Neither notices the screaming stop, neither notices Michael leave.

_How many of you hate me for leaving it there?_

_Artemis  
_


	10. Chapter 10

_I'm not sure how many chapters I'm going to get done over Christmas, hopefully I'll have one more up before Christmas day._

Chapter Ten.

"Cas," Dean's voice is low, desperate, and Castiel knows that he does not want his first real time with Dean to be all in a dream that Dean will either never remember when he wakes, or never believe. The thing of it is, however, that Dean's lips are kissing a slow path from his jaw to his ear and even though Castiel knows that he should stop this before it goes any further, Dean's lips have found the pulse point just under his ear and the sensation that the hunter is creating there is making him wonder why he thought this might be a bad thing.

When the man's lips move back to cover his own, tongue flicking out and meeting Castiel's own in something that is ancient, hard, wet and the perfect display of what each wants to really do to the other, hands begin to battle with the trench coat, pushing stiff fabric from hard shoulders and Castiel tries to press closer to Dean, to feel the firmness of his body against his own.

Dean pushes him back instead, walking him until Castiel's legs bump against something cool, hard and metallic even as the trench coat hits the ground. When he cannot go back any further, Dean begins to press closer as his lips return to Castiel's own. The angel gasps at the feel of the hunter against him, at the evident arousal that digs into his thigh that matches his own and he shifts a little. Dean moans slightly at the movement, rocks his hips against Castiel's own as he struggles with the angel's tie, batting hands away when Castiel tries to remove his shirt.

The hunter does not object, however, when Castiel's hands go to his belt instead, fumbling with the heavy leather until he can get it undone, making short work of button and zipper so that he can reach inside. Even through his boxers, Dean is hot and heavy in Castiel's hand and he whines at the angel's touch, his head dropping onto Castiel's shoulder as the angel begins to move his hand.

"_Cas_," Dean's voice breaks a little this time as his teeth scrape against Castiel's neck, as his own hands half scrabble with the angel's pants and half clutch at the angel's hips. It takes him a moment, a long moment and Castiel can feel him shaking and then cool air assaults him as Dean finally, _finally_, pushes his pants and boxers to the floor, hands drifting for a moment over exposed erection as the hunter drags himself back under control.

Then he is stilling all movement, Castiel's hands and his own, breath coming in deep gasps as he licks his way back up the angel's throat, kissing him deeply.

"Turn around," he hisses, emphasising his words with hands on hips and a push. As much as Castiel wants this, really wants this, he wishes that he could look Dean in the eye. This is neither the time, nor the place for that, he knows that it would make things too intense for the hunter, that it would ruin all the things that Castiel has been aiming for all of this time. Besides, here in the dreams, fears that Sam will find out cannot interfere, cannot get in their way.

So he does as he is ordered, turns and sees that Dean's car is that hard, cold object that he has been pressed against and that, _that_, just sends another thrill shooting through him, makes him impossibly harder and the hunter presses desperate, swollen lips against the nape of his neck. Firm hands push his shoulders, bending him so that he can feel cold metal through the thin fabric of his shirt and he braces his hands against the hood of the car. Dean's hands move down his back, sure and confident as he eases down, erection pressing against the back of Castiel's thigh and the angel shifts, makes Dean growl with something like want and something like need as he teases the angel's entrance.

The feel of a finger entering him is nothing like he had imagined it would be, slick with something unknown and where Dean got it he does not know and does not care, because this is hot, this is intense and this is what he has wanted for too long. By the time the fingers are exchanged for something larger Castiel is seeing stars, his breath coming in jagged gasps and harsh cries. The angel arches back, meeting Dean thrust for thrust, revelling in the in the burn and the pressure of Dean's hands on his hips, hard enough to bruise and the pain makes it all that much more real.

When the hunter reaches round and takes the angel's all but ignored erection in hand, beginning to move it in time with his thrusts, Castiel loses all semblance of control. Within moments his head is flung back, eyes wide and pupils blown and he screams his release. Dean follows not long after and they both collapse against the car, the warmth of the hunter's body a welcome contrast to the cold of the steel beneath him.

They lie like that for a while, breathing, trying to come back to themselves and gradually Castiel feels Dean become tense above him.

"Why aren't you leaving?" The hunter asks, standing suddenly and staring at the angel, green eyes wide when Castiel turns to look at him. "You always leave." Dean tells him and he sees the cogs working behind Dean's eyes, sees him coming to realise the truth of things and it is hard to remain impassive, hard to stay in control with his pants around his ankles and the damp and the smell of sweat and sex all over his body.

They stare at each other for a long moment, Castiel can feel the thoughts, the desperation, in Dean that this just be a dream, that this Castiel be a simple figment of his imagination and that he has not ruined the only friendship he has with his dark needs. The angel wants to tell him that this is all alright, that these thoughts and feelings are echoed and shared and that this is exactly what he wants.

Instead he leaves, his heart heavy and his soul aching, because _that_ is what Dean wants, and even with all of his own desires and own needs, Castiel cannot deny the hunter his wants first. Once outside of Dean's mind he takes a moment to compose himself before vanishing from the motel room, not noticing Sam's inquisitive gaze from the bed across room as he does so.

He would take a moment to dwell on the possible implications of his actions here, of giving in to Dean and allowing him to take what he needed in that moment, except that he finds himself stood before Zachariah and his former superior is smirking at him. Any fear that the other angel may once have experienced in Castiel's presence is long gone and Castiel mourns it for a long moment.

"I honestly didn't believe that you could sink any lower," Zachariah greets him and in that moment, Castiel knows that he is not getting away this time, that he may as well be as good as dead and all he can think is that he should have told the truth, should have told the hunter how he really feels.

_I hate my plot bunnies! I really do!_

_Artemis  
_


	11. Chapter 11

_I left you all over Christmas, I'm sorry but I couldn't get the time to finish writing my chapter. Finally got it done yesterday while everyone else slept off their huge Christmas dinner and then I fell asleep over my laptop. So, yeah. Also, any suggestions for how I'm going to get the boys out of this mess would be greatly appreciated, I have a vague idea, but it's not quite enough._

Chapter Eleven.

Castiel does not know how long he has been held captive in a ring of burning holy oil. It could be only minutes, it could be hours or days or even weeks, Zachariah, after all, is far more skilled at manipulating time than he ever was. What he does know is that every now and again the cell phone in his pocked will trill and each time he has to force himself to resist answering. He knows that it is Dean on the other end of the line, checking up on him and trying to convince himself not to worry about the renegade angel.

Fact of it is, Castiel cannot bring himself to answer anyway, he cannot risk it for fear that by doing so one of two things will happen. Either Dean will tear him a new one, as he believes the saying goes, for participating in his dreams in the first place, or Zachariah and his lackeys will use it to find the hunter. Neither outcome is overly desirable and so he keeps his hands by his sides and his back straight. Gradually, however, as the seconds tick by and the flames continue to bathe his body with their uncomfortable warmth, he begins to realise that the only one he is deceiving with this display of false confidence is himself.

They have imprisoned him in an old warehouse and have left four guards to watch over him, stone faced men in ill fitting suits whose duty it is to make sure that he does not use his ingenuity to escape Zachariah's clutches. Periodically his former superior will come to him and demand the location of Sam and Dean Winchester so that they might go to them and convince them that it is in their best interests to play their roles. Castiel finds it more than a little disturbing how alike Zachariah and Gabriel are in this instance.

Nevertheless, every time the more powerful angel makes the demand, Castiel shakes his head, refuses to give him what he wants and each time he wonders if this will be the last moment of defiance that he will be allowed to display. Deep down, he knows that Zachariah cannot let him continue to behave in this way in front of the others without there being some form of consequence and so he has to wonder why he is allowing it now. It makes little difference, he is still trapped within the ring of holy fire and unable to contact Dean to warn him of the danger that he is in.

Eventually he realises that the reason Zachariah has not hurt him, has not punished him physically as he should, is that his superior has every intention of using him against Dean, of using his feelings and Dean's apparent desire to push Dean into doing that which the hunter has sworn he will never do. This is the reason that the superior is keeping him alive and this is the reason that he has been allowed to get away with his defiance, because they need him in one piece to get Dean to say yes.

Castiel knows that as soon as Dean agrees to accept Michael into himself, he will be dead because the archangel will not stand to have such a reminder of disobedience in existence. It will not stop them from lying to Dean to try and convince him to do what they want him to. The angel hopes that the hunter will realise that and continue to refuse.

He has not had any fantasies or feelings of unbearable desire for the hunter since Zachariah took him captive and it is the first confirmation that he has received that, while he _does_ care deeply for Dean, the events of the last two months have not been all down to his mind. He is now certain that someone has been manipulating him and still it does not change how he feels about the hunter. The fact that he wants the hunter, needs the hunter, has never been in question, he fell from Heaven for Dean after all and even though at the time he was not sure about the meaning behind all the feelings that being around the man brought forward, he knows now that it was something more and something deeper than simple affection.

For the first time in weeks his driving thought has not been, find Dean, keep Dean safe, have lots of sex with Dean. Even though he is in immediate danger, he _knows_ that he is in trouble, he is aware that over the last few weeks not even a threat to his person has prevented him from imagining the things that he could be doing with Dean. Now that he is trapped in this way, knowing that he is going to die, he finds that the images and desires that have brought so much comfort and frustration to him over the last couple of months are no longer there. At least, not in the way that they were.

He still imagines things, of course he does, because that sort of feeling and sensation does not just go away, does not just stop simply because he is in danger. With no obvious way of escape and all possible routes blocked by flames and a distinct lack of water, Castiel has a lot of time between visits to kill. Where the products of his imagination seem to have once been filled with nothing but lust, desperation and darker desires than he has always been comfortable with, now they have become little more than a need and desire for a loving form of companionship.

There is still the consuming need and the want, he does not believe that will ever leave him, ever really diminish, it is simply that the visualisations that came with them have lessened, have become more loving and less frantic. The need he feels now is simply that need to return to Dean's side, the desire to see Dean's face in that time of bliss when Castiel is able to bring him to that fleeting moment of completion that all humans strive towards. He wants to return to the hunter and apologise for his strange behaviour, take the man in his arms and convince him that such feelings and needs for each other are not frowned up on, that they should act upon it in the real world and not hide it.

Instead he has to content himself with his own watery fantasies, his dreams of escape and his fear that by the time that he achieves it, Zachariah will already have managed to kill Sam and force Dean to take Michael in. The angel is under no illusions, he knows that Zachariah and his ilk will not allow the younger brother to live when Lucifer is already in an inferior vessel that will limit his ability as a warrior.

Truthfully, the angel wants to see this end as much as any of the rest of his kind, any that he has been accused of betraying and failing, except that he does not want to see his Father's most wondrous creation destroyed by angels who have no real claim to it when they have heaven.

Instead all he can do is stand as wait, allow himself to dream of the day that Dean will come through the door to his rescue and hope that he will have found a way to defeat the angels who stand guard. Otherwise all the rescue attempt will do is hand both Winchesters to Zachariah. Castiel conveniently ignores the fact that Dean will have to find out where he is first.

The angel's gaze never wavers from Zachariah's now, where he used to look away, he is now neither ashamed nor afraid to look into the stolen eyes of his superior and read the contempt there. One evening, once Zachariah has left him to the silent companionship of brothers who will no longer recognise him, Castiel allows himself a moment to close his eyes and picture Dean's face. When he opens them again he recognises the landscape he sees beyond the flames, recognises the red of the dirt and the chains across the skies.

This is Dean's mind, and Castiel knows that this can only mean one thing. Zachariah has gotten tired of waiting and has decided to go invade Dean's mind outright.

_Happy late Christmas everyone!_

_Artemis  
_


	12. Chapter 12

_I've worked it out! This makes me very happy because it means I can start to undo all of the horrible things I've done, after I do a few more horrible things to them of course. On the other hand, some genius in my Head Office place has decided that this is the perfect time to change our pricing system and thus remarket everything. Except that they have given only the most minimal amount of information to the stores. I'm working long hours to make it happen and the figure out what is the correct information from all the contradictory stuff they keep telling us. It makes my head hurt. What this moan actually means is that the chapters will take longer to come out and reviews make everything better._

_Thanks out to all those who made a suggestion!  
_

Chapter Twelve.

Dean is not stupid. He is well aware that at times he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, and when stood next to Sam he may as well be brain dead, but he is not completely devoid of the ability to use the little grey matter he has between his ears that has not been damaged. So, sure, he knows that the Castiel in his dreams last week was _not_ a figment of his imagination and while it is more than a little weird to him that the angel might actually want exactly what he wants, it is stranger still that the normally painfully blunt angel would hide something like this from him.

Then he thinks about how often he talks about girls, how regularly he follows the soft curves of a passing woman and tells tales of his numerous one night stands, and concludes that it is no wonder that Castiel never mentioned this. Dean has been just as wary of acknowledging it for his own reasons, his reputation as a ladies man, the simple fact that he has never _been_ with a man before, what Sam and Bobby would think if they found out and lastly, _fear_, he is afraid that by admitting these thoughts and needs and feelings that Castiel will be disgusted or offended. He figures that if he had known then what he is now aware of, he would not have bothered worrying all that much about the whole thing.

He is troubled, however, by the simple fact that he has not seen Castiel in over a week. The angel has not answered his phone, has not returned either Dean or Sam's calls, and while it is not unusual these days for him to not be around all the time, usually he would still return calls and check in. To not hear from him for so long has the hunter more concerned than he cares to admit.

Every night when he falls asleep he hopes that Castiel will be there to take his attention off the memories of Hell and the conspicuous absence of Michael over the last week. This is not to imply that Dean misses the archangel in any way, shape or form, he is far happier _without_ the constant stream of reasons why he should let Michael use him and dispose of him, it is simply that when Michael was bugging him, he knew what the angels were up to at some level. This sudden silence just stinks of something else, something bad.

So when he closes his eyes and sees the red of blood soaked earth and the green chained sky above him, Dean thinks he should be a little bit relieved to see Castiel standing against it, except that his angel is surrounded by a ring of holy fire and accompanied by Zachariah and the archangel who has stolen his mother's face. Cas looks worried, the other angels look smug and Dean knows that everything that is racing through him at this moment must be showing on his face, because, quite honestly, he is terrified. He knows with startling certainty what they are going to do next and he does not think that he will have the power to remain defiant in the face of such an ultimatum.

"Hello, Dean," the smile on Zachariah's face is completely false and there is a smugness to his tone that the hunter just wants to slap out of him, except for the fact that even though this is a dream, it is still going to hurt a hell of a lot and Dean has no interest in that. "We have a _new_ proposal for you."

As it turns out, Dean was right. Zachariah and Michael's new and improved plan is a simple trade, Castiel's freedom for unlimited use of Dean's body and the hunter really wishes that was actually going to be as dirty and as much fun as that whole sentence implied. Trouble is, Zachariah has really managed to hit him, because while it is one thing to refuse to sacrifice yourself even knowing that millions of faceless people will die, it is another entirely to say no in the face of someone you know, someone you care about. Dean may not be ready to admit it out loud, but he does care about the renegade angel. The hunter cares about him a lot more than he really thinks he should.

Castiel is there, right there in front of him, watching him with wide blue eyes that betray so much more in this moment than they ever have in the past and the hunter knows that even in the face of all of this, the angel still does not want him to say yes. Dean does not think that he has the strength to do as Cas obviously wants him too.

He knows his own weakness, he knows that he was raised to be the perfect little soldier, to look after Sam, or kill Sam, as the need arose. He was isolated from anyone and everyone that might have given his life a worth and a meaning except his brother, without Sam he had believed that there would be no point in living. Dean realises that he was raised to sacrifice himself for others and that this is little more than another sacrifice for another person he cares about. He would almost gladly give himself to Michael for Castiel. He just needs to find out if there is another way first. This time he refuses.

"After everything he did for you?" Zachariah asks while Michael watches, head tilted in a move that is too much like Castiel for Dean's comfort. "He pulled you out of Hell, boy, protected you from demons. He's killed his brothers for you, he rebelled for you, and you're going to _leave_ him there?"

Dean hears it all, every single word that is falling from stolen lips, he simply choses to act like he is ignoring it, to act like he is ignoring the fact that the angels have found one of the few things other than Sam that can really get to him. He hates that he is this weak. He hates that Sam is one of his greatest weaknesses and he hates it even more that Castiel has managed to sneak under his skin and become almost as dear to him. What he does know is that he has no interest in living as himself without Cas, and he has even less interest in letting the angel walk the earth while an archangel rides him like a cheap whore. Therefore, there has to be another way and he is even more determined to find it.

"Sorry, Cas," he mutters, with a shrug that is more false bravado than actual indifference, and allows their eyes to lock for a long moment. To his relief, he sees the understanding in Castiel's eyes and the briefest twitch of his lips in the vague ghost of a smile that Dean so rarely sees. He does not think that he can fully express his relief that his friend is accepting of his actions and he knows that he lost all right to call Castiel _friend_ when the angel let him bend him over the hood of the Impala.

Zachariah and Michael exchange long looks, seeming to communicate without the need for words and abruptly Dean wonders if this is why Castiel is always making such intense eye contact. He brushes the stray thought away to bring his head back into the game, the dream world that he is getting more than a little tired of seeing night in and night out while the angels play their games.

Behind his former superiors Castiel's lips move, forming a word that Dean cannot quite understand as he tries to keep his confusion from his face where they will see it. It takes another three tries before Dean understands.

_Gabriel_.

Which makes zero sense, by the way, because Castiel's last attempted chat with the former archangel did not go well. Unless. Unless Michael does not know that Gabriel is still wondering around the Earth, which would give Dean something to play with, something to bluff with. He wonders if it will be enough.

_Happy New Year to everyone around the world!_

_Artemis  
_


	13. Chapter 13

_Somehow, this turned into quite a talky chapter. I don't know how, I don't like writing dialogue all that much. Never mind. On the plus side, work went very well, changes are well under way and I was in a good mood when I wrote this. If this is what I write when I'm happy, I think I might need a little help._

Chapter Thirteen.

Gabriel is not the easiest of beings to track down, the archangel has had _far_ too much practice at hiding from the people he does not want to find him. Nevertheless, Dean persists in his search, he _has_ to because he cannot face the idea of continuing without Castiel at his side and he is even more terrified of the thought that he might one day be forced to watch his own hand take Cas's life under the puppetry of Michael.

Dean does not want to think of that, does not want to think about what the future may hold for them, that they may never have what they both so obviously want. Besides, Castiel seems to think that his capture will be reason enough for Gabriel to bother to help them and Dean really hopes that his angel is right about this, otherwise Cas is going to be left broken and disappointed by his brethren for a third time. The hunter does not think that he could bare to see that.

_Finding_ Gabriel is another matter entirely, especially since the archangel has no evident desire to be found, and if Dean did not fell that absolute necessity of seeing him, he would not even be attempting it now. Even Sam thinks that this is just as much of a stupid idea, particularly given how things worked out for them the last time. Dean has not told Sam the real reason behind all of this, behind his desperate need to get Castiel back and how Zachariah obviously knew that it would be easier to get to him through the renegade angel rather than through Sam, he just uses the half truth that it is his fault that Cas is in this mess in the first place and he needs to make it right. He knows that his brother is not convinced, that Sam knows there is something more to the whole thing. Fortunately, Dean simply receives the patented Sam Winchester 'I know you're lying to me' bitch face and the reasons are left to the dictates of Dean's guilt for the moment.

"You know," a familiar voice comments from the back seat of the Impala, "I thought Castiel was the only one foolish enough to try and track me down again." Dean swears viciously at the sudden appearance of Gabriel and the car swerves violently into the path of an oncoming van.

They are righted by a negligent snap of the archangel's fingers. Dean brings the car to a halt at the side of the road as he leans his forehead against the steering wheel and silently asks for strength, not really caring who grants it as long as it allows him to keep a handle on his temper for long enough to persuade a capricious archangel to help them. While he is busy getting his heartbeat back under control, Sam is taking the initiative.

"How did you find us?" He asks, turning in his seat to look at Gabriel.

"I have my ways," the small angel smirks. "Besides, if you were thinking of continuing to lie low, I would have thought you would pick a less conspicuous car." There is a tense silence. "Apparently, however, your idiocy knows no bounds, it makes you so much fun, what's to stop me from turning you both over to the appropriate brother?"

Dean shrugs. "I don't think that's an option," he smirks and Sam frowns at him. "See, I think if it was, you'd have done it the last time we saw you instead of bothering with that whole t.v. land thing, as much fun as it must have been for you and everything, you know they'd kill you as soon as they saw you and the only reason they haven't yet is because they don't even know you're down here. So you're going to help us or _I'm_ going to tell them where to find you." There is no humour in Dean's voice as he speaks, instead there is something dark, something deadly, there and Sam turns his head sharply to look at his brother.

Gabriel's head is tilted to one side, eyes wide and owlish, lips pursed a little as though he is trying to decide whether to challenge Dean's words. Meeting this stony gaze is nothing like looking into Castiel's eyes. There is no warmth in the archangel now that he is not pretending to be something he is not, there is simply a void of emotion that is utterly unsettling. Dean does not waver, knows that he cannot afford to back down in this.

"And what am I supposed to help you with?" The corner of Gabriel's mouth twitches up slightly, a learnt gesture that is now almost natural. It does not make Dean feel in any way at ease, but he looks away and knows that it will not lose him anything because Gabriel is at least trying to find out what they want.

"They've got Cas," Dean tells him, is ashamed of the way that his voice catches a little as he says the words.

"I fail to see the problem," Gabriel smirks. "They give him back, you play your part in all of this and everything ends." So the archangel understands how the minds of this brothers work, Dean does not think of that as much of a surprise.

"Well I think I found a little flaw," the hunter challenges, feeling Sam's eyes burning holes in the side of his head, the unanswered questions multiplying so rapidly in his oversized brain that Dean can almost hear them screaming at him. He keeps going anyway. "The way I see it, as soon as Michael gets in my head he'll know everything I do. It's how it works isn't it, and if he knows everything I do, he'll know about you. I don't think he's going to be too pleased about it. Actually, I think he might bypass Lucifer and go after you first. What do you think, Sam?"

No matter what he might really be thinking, or the questions that Dean knows he will have to answer once he has Castiel back and before he can ensure that he acts on this need to possess Cas utterly, Sam decides to play along. Either that, or Dean has managed to convince his brother of the same thing.

"I think they'll pissed and I think they'll go after you to prove a point," Sam shrugs. "Cas didn't get away with rebelling, why should you?"

Nervous eyes dart between them, the archangel's thin mouth drawn in a tight line as he thinks on their words.

"You don't know anything," he settles for staring at Dean again, as if he knows that Dean is the man behind this stupid plan. The awful thing of it all is, the hunter can see that the archangel is afraid and he knows that, really, he has actually hit the nail on the head this time.

"Maybe, maybe not, but if you don't help us, I'm handing you over to Mike anyway. Exchange Cas for you. Besides, if he dies I'll just find a way to kill all of you and don't think I'm stupid enough to believe that Michael would seriously let Castiel _live_ once he has me."

"So you finally admitted it," Gabriel says and shakes his head, eyes downcast now as his forehead crinkles in the tiniest of frowns.

Dean does not bother to ask _how_ the archangel knows, because he has a feeling that Gabriel has something to do with it. Lucifer has something to gain out of pushing Dean and Castiel together, and thus Dean's attention away from Sam, and it would seem that Gabriel had a plan around this too. What the hunter is actually wondering now, is how Gabriel knew about _Lucifer's_ plan. He does not like it, but that does not mean that he needs Gabriel any less.

"I want this to end," Gabriel says, "I want them to stop fighting. Why can't you understand?"

"Sometimes," Sam surprises Dean by responding, "sometimes the only way to stop the fighting is to fight back. You need to stand up to them." The archangel nods once, whether in reply to Sam or in answer to Dean's request neither can be sure, but he is gone the next second.

_I'm getting hooked on cliffhangers aren't I? These need to stop. Also, is it bad that I'm now finding Richard Speight Jr. oddly attractive after dedicating many hours of my time studying the Trickster/Gabriel?_

_Artemis  
_


	14. Chapter 14

_Gabriel is an uncooperative so and so. But I think I've got him sorted. Either that or I've lost my mind. Take your pick._

Chapter Fourteen.

Gabriel cannot quite comprehend the audacity of the Winchester brothers, nor is he entirely certain exactly _why_ he let them get away with their demands and their speculation. He is shaken, however, by the attitude to Castiel's kidnap that Dean has shown. With his habit of sacrificing himself for the sake of others, Gabriel would have thought that the older brother would give himself up to Michael to save the angel who pulled him from Hell. Clearly this same assumption has also been made by his brethren and just clearly it was one made in error.

The truth of the matter is, Gabriel knows that Michael and Raphael are well aware of the fact that he is not destroyed. The same cannot be said if they ever get their hands on him. Gabriel's older brothers do not take betrayal well and if he were to fall into their possession he does not think that his eventual end will be quick or pleasant. His time on Earth has been lonely without the song of his family to comfort him and while he regrets leaving, he knows that he would not change his actions.

He stares out over a cliff at the setting sun, listens to the crash of the waves below him and realises that he can no longer see the beauty there as he once did. He has spent too much time becoming jaded and disillusioned with mankind, with their wanton destruction of all that his Father gave them and as time has passed he has allowed his petty vengeance and his arrogant feelings of righteousness to colour his opinion of _all _mankind.

There was a time when apocalypses were a regular thing, a flood here, a rain of blood there, but this one is different, this one is not a punishment for children who simply will not listen, this is a case of the older sibling bullying the younger, weaker, one simply because they can. He cannot quite believe that a supposedly all knowing and all loving Father would stand by and allow all of this, no matter His location. Perhaps the world is more lost than any of them truly realises.

His thoughts turn to Castiel, they turn to Lucifer's plan and how his brother is trying to separate Dean and Sam. Really, the plan was remarkably simple, unlike many of Lucifer's more convoluted ideas, and all it really consisted of was the idea that Dean be given someone else to love and protect. Someone who would distract him from trying to _stop_ Lucifer. That it be Castiel was just a twist of fate and circumstance, it also served to keep the renegade distracted. Gabriel just took it all a step further.

In reality, he seems to have come remarkably close to his goal. There is just the little problem of Dean's self sacrificing streak apparently being on strike and that is something that the archangel cannot quite understand. This is exactly the kind of thing that Dean excels at, that he apparently seems to have been created for, and the one time that Gabriel actually thinks that flaw might pay off in favour of someone the human cares about, Dean fails to deliver.

He spends the better part of the night trying to work it out and by the morning he still does not have the answer. It is very frustrating. It has been a long time since Gabriel has not understood something, he thought that he had come to know mankind relatively well. As it turns out, he is now not entirely sure he has learnt all that much more about mankind than his brethren already knew and it is somewhat disconcerting.

What it all comes down to, he realises, is human emotion. He can simulate it, the satisfaction and the selfishness, the enjoyment and lusts, the anger and pain that all comes with being one of them. Even the pagans are more in tune with mankind's powerful feelings than the angels are. The one thing that none of them really understand, however, is the human capacity for love, the human sensation of it, because they have only been created to love one way. The pagans only love themselves unconditionally, it is rare, though not unheard of, for one of them to love another. The angels were created to love their Father and all of his creations equally, many of them cannot begin to understand the concept of caring for one above all others, even their given charges.

Which is what seems to drive Dean's decision apparently, and just because Gabriel cannot understand why does not mean that he cannot eventually work out the root cause by simply examining that part of humanity he understands the least. It hurts him to think that his own brother has fallen so low as to begin to experience real emotions, fallen so low as to raise one human above all others and he knows that everything he has done to Castiel has been as much about punishing the renegade angel as it has been to try and push Dean and Sam into playing the parts they were created for. Instinctually he knows that losing Dean will punish Castiel far more than anything else that the others can put the angel through, still, it does not bring him the comfort that it once did and deep down he knows why.

His actions do not comfort him because he knows that he is as deserving of punishment as Castiel, he knows that he has betrayed his family in much the same way as the younger angel has by running from the fight. He justifies his actions to himself all the time by telling himself that this is so that he does not have to watch brothers he loves fight, by telling himself that it is because he does not want to have to chose even though to chose Lucifer would be to sentence himself to an eternity without his Father. The words ring hollow now, the conviction lacking.

He wants to see the fighting end, but he is coming to realise that he is not the only one who does and that others are simply going about it a different way. Lucifer seeks to destroy Michael, the brother who never understood or defended him. Michael equally wants to get rid of Lucifer, the younger sibling who betrayed their Father. Dean and Sam simply want each angel back where he belongs, one in Hell, the other in Heaven and neither with any influence over the Earth. _Ever_. It is an ending, though not the one that Gabriel had ever envisioned, and the archangel realises that even when one or the other brother wins the fighting will never end.

It will never end because there will always be the humans to bring under control, one way or the other. Lucifer does not much care for the demons he created, descended from the mankind he abhors, and Michael will gladly wipe them out one by one. It is not only humanity and demon kind that the victor will have to deal with, however. Over the years many angels have formed the same opinion as Gabriel, many have abandoned their posts and their brethren in favour of peace, unwilling to ally themselves with one or the other. Most ripped out their grace and fell, others went into hiding. Those who have survived this long will be hunted, whether they remember themselves or not, they will be killed. In that moment Gabriel comes to understand something completely.

He does not want to die.

Granted, should he chose to continue in his existence he knows that he cannot return to Heaven, he also knows that should he tear out his grace he will eventually go to Hell when he dies, but he does not want to lose what he has, because at the end of it all his existence is _all_ that he has. Maybe, just maybe, Dean and Sam can allow him that when they stop Lucifer, when they stop Michael. They need help with that, however, and much as he is loath to chose between brothers, perhaps this really is the only way to stop the fighting. Perhaps rather than chose between them he should chose neither of them. Perhaps he should help the hunters to overcome this in their way.

First, however, he needs to find Castiel.


	15. Chapter 15

_Another talking chapter! Wow, these boys like to talk when I get them all together. I'm thinking I've got maybe three more chapters after this, possibly four. I'm starting to like writing Gabe, I don't know why, but he was well behaved tonight so I can forgive him his terrors earlier in the fic._

Chapter Fifteen.

Six days pass before Dean hears from Gabriel and every night in between the hunter gets a step closer to taking that desperate step, a step nearer that mistake which will cost not only his life and freedom, but Castiel and Sam's too. The archangel tracks them down in the booth of a diner on the outskirts of a small town that may as well be nameless for all that Dean will remember it tomorrow. He has spent too much of his life on the road to remember everywhere that he has been.

This time Dean does not comment on the fact that the rib graffiti is supposed to have them hidden from all angels, because he has a feeling that he actually does not want to know how Gabriel is tracking them down. Even if the archangel _were_ to tell them, it would just make him worry, just make him more anxious that another angel might come up with the same idea. He simply grunts at Gabriel instead and receives a shrug in response as the angel waves his hand seemingly negligently. The false trickster's lips twist in a smirk as the waitress sets a stack of pancakes in front of him, almost as though she has not even realised that she did not take the order.

Dean watches half in fascination and half in disgust as the archangel dumps half the bottle of syrup supplied over his food and takes a fork full from the plate with obvious relish. He spares an idle moment to wonder why Gabriel bothers to keep up the pretense, then lets the question slide in favour of finding out what this powerful creature has to say for himself.

"I found my brothers," he mutters around a pancake and Dean can see the comfort that the archangel still gets from this pretense. The hunter is tired of watching it.

"Really? Well that's _nice_ for you. Did they welcome you back with open arms?" He does not miss the flash of hurt in Gabriel's eyes at his words, the way that he stills slightly at the sound of them. It makes him think that maybe Anna may not have been telling the whole truth about angels being little more than marble statues. It is another thought to examine another time and the moment is broken as Gabriel's eyes narrow and his lips thin.

"Well, if you don't want to know where Castiel is..." he raises his hand, middle finger and thumbs pressed together.

"Wait," Dean hates the desperation in his voice, hates the way that his arm twitches as though he is reaching to stop Gabriel and he leans forward to cover it, resting his arms on the table and clasping his hands together so tightly that his knuckles turn white. The archangel settles again, although the smirk on his face tells Dean that he may have just confirmed something and the hunter does not like to think what that might be. "What do you know?"

So Gabriel tells them. He tells them all about the warehouse two states over, about the ring of holy fire that holds Castiel prisoner and the four angels who guard him. With every word that falls from the archangel's lips, Dean finds himself beginning to feel more and more helpless, more _hopeless_. It is one thing to have a face off against _one_ angel, it is another entirely to confront four, potentially more, with no form of angelic back up at all.

"You're not going to help us?" Sam asks and Dean honestly believes that his brother is genuinely surprised by that idea.

"I'm not going to kill my brothers," the archangel responds flatly and as much as Dean wishes that Gabriel would help them, he can get behind the idea of not killing one's family.

"We're not asking you to _kill_ them," the younger Winchester hisses in response even as the older feels something icy coil around his heart, because if the only solution to this that Gabriel can see is that of the death of angels, they may have a problem. After the disaster with Lucifer and the Colt, the boys do not have anything that they know will definitely work against such immense creatures.

"Can't you just distract them?" Sam questions again, and while Dean has to admire his brother's tenacity in the face of Gabriel's stubbornness, the hunter knows that there is no way they are going to win this argument.

"What about the blood spell?" Dean asks, distracting an increasingly frustrated Gabriel from a younger brother that the archangel looks about ready to smite.

"Which one?" Is the reply and Dean finds it more than a little disturbing that there is more than one sigil to be drawn in blood against angels out there. There is a glimmer of hope in the archangel's eyes, however, that tells the hunter that this may be something that Gabriel has not considered.

"The one that gets rid of you guys, would that work?" Gabriel thinks about it for a long moment, then shakes his head.

"Perhaps," pale eyes narrow as he mulls it over, chewing absently on a mouthful of syrup soaked pancake. "But you have to remember, little brother is still an angel, cast out or not it would repel Castiel as quickly as any of the others."

"Will it hurt him?" The soft concern in Dean's voice makes his brother glance at him sharply, like Sam is only just now picking up on the fact that there is more to Dean's desire to get Castiel back than the simple ties of an awkward friendship born out of blood and hellfire.

"It could kill him," the false trickster admits softly and Dean leans back from the table, running one worried hand over jaw and mouth. "It would throw him through the fire and I have no idea what effect that would have."

"What if Cas was the one to draw it?" Sam asks. Internally Dean thanks him for thinking of a possible solution and giving him a chance to get his voice back under control. He has too much to tell Cas, too much that he wants to _do_ with him in the real world to lose the angel now and he knows that will show.

"It could work," Gabriel's head tilts as he looks at Sam, eyes taking a somewhat softer glaze as he considers the plan. "It wouldn't affect him, but you still have the little problem of my other brothers. They won't like you handing a knife to Castiel."

"Which is where your help would really be appreciated," Sam says, voice earnest and eyes pleading. Gabriel hesitates under the assault of the _Sam Winchester puppy eyes of doom_, then shakes his head.

"Sorry, boys, I've done my part. You're on your own," he smirks at them, clicks his fingers and is gone.

_This_, Dean decides, is most definitely not a good thing. A glance at Sam tells him that his brother is of the same opinion. They have no choice. Rather, _Dean_ has no choice and that means that Sam is going to be dragged into this completely. It does not surprise him that Sam puts down money for the check, or that he leads them from the diner. He knows that his younger brother wants answers and that the only way to get those is to pull Castiel out of the fire, literally.

_Drama is coming! Have just realised that I don't write nearly enough happy stuff, must find my happy bunny. I wonder where I put it?_

_Artemis  
_


	16. Chapter 16

_Inspiration for the wrong things strikes at the most inopportune of times. On the plus side, I know what I'm writing next once this fic is finished, on the down side it's distracting me. Nevermind, only a couple more chapters to go. _

Chapter Sixteen.

Dean drives through the night, the day and half of the following night to get to the town where Castiel is being held. The hunter is exhausted, beyond that in fact because he has not let Sam behind the wheel. He knows that it was stupid, to drive for so long with barely a break, and that Sam will be even more suspicious of his reasoning now than he was before.

Dean knows that he should be more worried about that, the fact that Sam is going to be demanding explanations as soon as he believes that the time is right, and given that his brother is like a dog with a bone when he finds something he wants explaining, Dean knows that he is not going to let this rest. Right now, however, he is in a motel room, the last place that he wants to be, because he knows that they should not go into this without a plan and Sam is insisting that they cannot do this unless Dean rests first. Even though the older Winchester resisted, Sam became more vocal about it with each passing moment. In the end, Dean gave in and he is now lying on one of the beds staring at the ceiling while he waits for sleep to come.

When it does it is fraught with images, nightmares really, of Castiel bleeding and dying, _burning_ in the holy oil ring as it gets ever closer to him. He needs a plan, even in his dreams he knows that he needs a plan, but there is nothing that he can think of. So far they have only two things that they know works against angels. The blood sigils and the holy oil.

If Cas were not stuck in the middle of this whole thing, Dean would use the blood sigils and not think anything further of it and as for the holy oil, that has only ever worked for them when their opponents have been taken by surprise. There is no way that they are going to get into that warehouse and lay a trap for the four angels inside, no way that the sigil is going to get drawn if they cannot get the knife to Castiel and even then they have to trust that the angel will know what to do with it. After that it is a simple matter of putting out the flames and getting Cas away before Zachariah turns up and stops them.

They could really use Gabriel's help in all of this.

Still, they do not have the archangel turned trickster god to help them and Dean knows that he will have to let that idea go rather than pursue it. After all, Gabriel has helped them this much, if he helps them any more he might start asking for something in return and Dean does not like to think what that may be.

He wakes little more rested than he was when he lay down and his mind is still running in circles. Sam is still dozing, barely shifting when Dean groans as he gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom. He spends a long moment in there staring at his reflection in the mirror and wondering how he let anything like this happen, wondering how he let Cas get so deep under his skin. For a moment he worries that Castiel never actually wanted anything that he did, worries that he forced the angel into an action he never wanted to take. Cas _did_ run after all. It is a problem that he will deal with later, besides, Castiel did not stop him at any point, did not tell Dean no, and that has to count for something.

He washes quickly, trying not to dwell on what was apparently their first time together, and when did he turn into such a girl about all of this anyway, eager to get out there and get to the warehouse plan of action be damned. Sam _still_ has other plans, apparently, because his younger brother is waiting for him when he emerges from the bathroom and Dean cannot help but notice that he looks annoyed. Thinking about it, and he does not often do that, Sam has a point, Dean is of no use to Castiel if he gets his ass handed to him and then winds up being ridden by Michael. Dean is fast getting to the point where he believes that being destroyed by Michael would be preferable to losing Cas anyway. Which he realises is the point behind all of this.

Sam wastes no time in pointing this out either, although he is a little bit more physical in his vocalisation of the matter and as his arms come up so that he can make his point more clearly, Dean sees a half empty bottle of beer go crashing to the ground. The shatter of glass stops Sam's rant mid flow and he looks down at the beer that has splashed up one leg, pulling a face and narrowing his eyes at his brother, as though he is daring Dean to laugh. The older hunter barely notices it as he continues to stare at shattered glass and splashed liquid.

"Just do me a favour, Dean, okay," Sam snaps, breaking through Dean's musings for a moment. "Just, just stay here until we can talk about this properly." He does not wait for a nod or a mutter of agreement, even for a word of argument, Sam simply stalks into the bathroom. Dean barely even registers that because he has a half crazed plan forming and the best thing is that he thinks it might actually work.

By the time that Sam emerges, Dean is all prepared, has even cleaned up the spilt beer because glass crunching under foot is no fun anyway and Sam will bitch about it for hours if he leaves the beer there too. When he explains his idea to his brother, however, Dean knows that Sam thinks this is a terrible idea and in reality it is.

"But that's why it'll _work_, Sammy," the adrenaline is already rushing through him and he is packing equipment and pocketing matches as he says it, eager to be on the road, eager to get to Castiel. Sam pulls another bitch face in obvious resistance to Dean's convictions.

"It's still a bad plan," he mumbles as he follows his brother to the car and slides into the passenger side, folding himself up with the ease of long practice and waiting for Dean to finish loading everything into the trunk of the car. The older hunter sighs, wishing for a moment that he did not have to get Sam involved in all of this, knowing that Zachariah has no interest in keeping Sam alive to become Lucifer's vessel and that taking his brother with him is likely leading them all into a trap. He has little choice.

The drive is silent and when they arrive at the warehouse it is disturbingly silent, not even the lonely cackle of crows, shrouded in black and darkness with the early fall of night and it sets both hunters on edge. Dean inches the door open and takes a look, spots Castiel in his ring of holy fire instantly along with the angels facing each exit. This is not going to be easy, but Dean has to do it. He nods at Sam, telling him with that gesture that Gabriel's intel was correct but with a warning in his eyes that tells the younger man that they have to do this fast and they have to get it right the first time. He knows that Sam does not need to hear it, but he still hisses at him to be careful as he sneaks into the warehouse.

It was too much to hope that they would get close under the radar, so Dean is hardly surprised when the angels turn to look at them as soon as one spots the shift of shadows and darkness between orange pools from the streetlights outside. He has planned for this too, stepping out so that they can seen him properly as he fingers the knife in one pocket and the matches in the other. They have moments now, he knows, until Zachariah shows up and starts with the torture, and who thought angels would be the sort to torture others?

Out the corner of his eye he sees something fly past and then there is the shatter of glass. His smile is grim as his hands flash out of his pockets.

_I love writing cliffies! (ducks flying objects)_

_Artemis  
_


	17. Chapter 17

_Easily the longest chapter so far. I have to admit it may not be up to standard, however, one minute I was revelling in the fact the Misha will be in the UK for another convention in October which I have just purchased tickets for, and the next I was utterly devestated by the news that they had lost my booking for the convention in May with Jim. Right now I am praying for a speedy resolution, so I might be a little distracted._

Chapter Seventeen.

Several things happen at once when Dean reacts to the sound of glass breaking. The angels coming towards the brothers Winchester pause, as though they are not quite certain what to make of the thick liquid that now coats their legs and hands, faint traces of confusion evident on their faces until light flares in Dean's hand and a lit match falls at their feet. The holy oil lights up with a whoosh and surge of heat even as Dean is throwing the knife he had in his pocket at Castiel.

The angel's start to scream as one and even the ear plugs that the older hunter stuffed into his ears as soon as his hands were free cannot cut out the sound of the true voice of an angel in agony. Both hunters flinch, but they keep moving anyway, knowing that Zachariah will be here soon and they still need to put out the flames that surround Castiel without extinguishing those that hold Zach's lackeys prisoner.

Flames are dripping off the burning angels by the time that Dean finds an old bucket of fire sand, damp and teaming with plants and insects, and the hunter moves as rapidly as he is able with his brain half dribbling out of his ears towards Castiel to bring him some sort of freedom.

He is momentarily distracted from his task by another flash of fire, sees one of the angels go down with flames rippling up his body as he grasps Sam's leg. Whether it is by sheer bad luck or the oil is simply easily transferable, Dean does not quite know and does not care, because his brother's leg is quickly engulfed by the same flames and for a long and terrible moment, Dean panics. Then Sam drops to the ground, rolling away from the burning angels and smothering the fire that threatened to consume him. When Dean can breathe again, Sam is staring pointedly at him and Castiel is crouched in the centre of the holy fire ring, blood soaking the cuff of his trench coat and a frown creasing his forehead as he draws sigils on the ground.

He does not wait for the other angels to stop burning, simply staggers forward, because the sound of their screams is really getting to him even through the ear plugs, and dumps the sand over a section of the ring as Castiel slams his hand into the centre of the sigil. Everything goes abruptly silent and Dean breathes a sigh of relief as he sees Castiel's lips moving. For a long moment he fears that the angels really have rendered him deaf this time before he remembers the earplugs and removes them.

"Cas," he mutters the angel's name as Castiel steps through the gap in the fire made by the sand, blood still leaking slowly down his arm and eyes tight as he stares at the hunter, moving closer as Dean continues to speak. "Are you..."

"What have you done?" Zachariah's voice cuts through Dean's question, his presence an unwelcome surprise as he appears just behind Castiel and Dean sees the flash of silver in his hands as he steps forward. Then there is a blade at Castiel's side and a mania about Zachariah's face. "You _will_ say yes to Michael," he presses the sword closer to Castiel's side and Dean feels his heart constrict violently in his chest. "I tire of your endless self pity and your selfish _waste_ of time and resources."

"You know," a new voice starts, "I really didn't want it to happen this way. I mean, I didn't want _one_ more of my brothers to die, let alone five." Dean's eyes dart his right, resting on Gabriel for a long moment before he looks back at Castiel and Zachariah, who's face has slackened a little with surprise. "Difference is, I get to chose which one of you is the fifth."

The archangel is stood almost calmly beside the hunter, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his old khaki jacket as he rocks slightly on the balls of his feet. It is only the slight tightness about his eyes that betrays the nerves that must be racing through him. Dean is probably more nervous. His _head_ knows that Gabriel could probably wipe out everyone in the room, Zachariah included, without much effort at all but his heart is more concerned with the _when_ and the _who_ than the actual power behind the smiting.

"Why does any one of us have to die?" Castiel asks, his eyes fixed on Gabriel's face and an intensity burning behind them that Dean finds he has missed seeing since the angel was taken.

"That's the only way that this can end, Castiel," Gabriel sighs and takes a step forward as Zachariah tightens his hold on the renegade angel.

"Where have you been?" The demand is accusing and Castiel flinches when Zachariah presses the blade more firmly against his side, causing the first bloom of crimson against the tan of the trench coat.

"Here and there," the archangel is stood right next to them now, head tilted as though examining both angels. "I just want this to end, I want the fighting to stop," there is a flash of silver Gabriel pulls his hands from his pocket, raising them and moving them faster than is humanly possible and it reminds Dean that as much as the angels look like humans in their meat suits, they are anything but. Zachariah looks surprised for a long moment, mouth dropping open and arms going slack around Castiel, releasing the renegade to stumble forward.

"Close your eyes, Dean," Cas orders and Dean obeys, trusting Castiel to know what is best for him and feeling the brilliance of a dying angel burning his retinas even then.

When the light dims enough, the hunter risks opening his eyes again, allows them to fall on Castiel who is staring at his brother with something like horror on his face. Even though Dean's head is telling him that he should be watching Gabriel, who is more than likely extremely annoyed with the hunter's solution to the angelic guards problem, his heart is telling him that he should be looking after Castiel. After so much of his life spent protecting and watching over people he cares about, the heart wins and Dean is crouching beside his angel and running his hands under the trench coat so that he can push it aside.

"We shouldn't be here when Raphael turns up," Gabriel says abruptly, snapping his fingers and everything around Dean lurches. Their arrival in a motel room somewhere registers, if barely, because the light changes from the flickering orange of holy flames and street lights to the steady yellow of cheap light bulbs. In the background, Dean can hear his brother talking to Gabriel, thanking him and asking him what changed his mind, and the hunter knows that he should be doing the same, except that his gaze is utterly fixed on Castiel and the angel is staring at him with no less intensity

"You ok?" Dean manages finally, helping Castiel to his feet then pulling the trench coat off completely so that he can look at Cas's side and arm.

"I am fine, Dean," Castiel's voice is low, powerful in a manner that makes Dean think of highly inappropriate things given the circumstances and just like that he is babbling a little, hands moving restlessly along barely healed wounds and eyes averted until finally he feels Castiel's hand clamp tightly on his shoulder. Startled by the gesture, he meets the angel's gaze and something in his mind clicks. He does something stupid.

He kisses Castiel because he can, because he wants to, because he _needs_ to and the angel does not push him away. He can hear Sam's confused out cry and Gabriel's chuckles, settles for giving both a one fingered salute even though both sounds stop rather abruptly in the moment that he notices that Castiel's hands are starting to slide under his t-shirt and he knows that if he does not stop this now, his brother and Gabriel are going to get a free show.

"Dean," Cas hisses against his jaw, walking him back towards the bed and Dean realises that Sam and Gabriel have already vacated the premises, he reminds himself to thank the archangel later, and that is just going to be awkward, and turns his attention back to Cas.

Deep down, Dean knows that he should be talking to Castiel about everything. He should talk to the angel about this thing between them, which has somehow gone from imagination to dream encounters to this reality, he should talk to Cas about Lucifer and Gabriel and they should try and work out _why_ everything went as far as it did. Right now, however, is not the time because Castiel is kissing him, the tip of his tongue licking the roof of Dean's mouth like it belongs there and his hands reaching down to cup the hunter through his jeans and Dean knows that this is not going to be about big declarations or realisations, this is not going to be about feelings, this is about the need to reassure one another that they are alive and well. This is just about _need_.

Cas is pliant beneath his hands as Dean turns him, pushing him hard and fast down onto the bed and following, thoughts straying to his dream and the Impala and he wants that again, wants Castiel to fall apart under his hands and with him buried as far inside as he can be. Except this time he wants to _see_. He wants to see the angel's face as Dean strips him of all control, wants to watch Cas shatter.

Clothes are the first thing to go, and Dean would feel bad about popping some of the buttons off the angel's shirt except that he knows Cas can mojo them back on and right now he is far happier exploring the pale expanse of Castiel's chest with his tongue and teeth. He works his way further down the angel's body, finally finding Castiel's erection and licking up it, revelling in the broken noise Cas makes when he finally envelopes him with his mouth. If Dean is honest, this is not something that he has ever thought of doing before, not something that he has tried, but there is a taste and a texture to Castiel, to the weight of him, that hunter does not think he will ever be able to get enough of. As his lips move he trails a hand up Castiel's body, feeling the angel's almost jaged breathing as he does so, pressing fingers against his lips until Cas sucks them inside, seeming to understand what Dean wants him to do even though the hunter cannot tell him at the moment, laving his tongue over them until Dean withdraws them an coaxes Castiel's legs further apart so that he can reach down and press one finger inside.

The angel jolts underneath him and the hunter hums a little, feeling the vibrations of his voice around the erection in his mouth and he knows that Cas feels them as well when the angel's back arches a little and he relaxes a little into the intrusion. Dean works carefully, not wanting to waste time, but not wanting to hurt the angel, breathing a sigh as he manages to insert another finger, to twist and scissor and explore a little until Cas mutters something in a lanuage that Dean does not understand but he can comprehend the implication behind the words quite well enough and he releases the angel from his mouth even as his fingers continue to work, kissing his way back up Castiel's abdomen and pausing for a moment at the point on his chest where Zachariah's sword broke the skin and the wound there is still angry looking. It takes little more than a moment of thought for him to press a brief kiss there, running his tongue over the injury and tasting the faintest tint of his angel's blood.

Castiel whines again when Dean presses a third finger inside and when the hunter kisses him, he demonstrates with his tongue the action that he would apparently prefer that the man perform and Dean has never really been one to say no to that kind of promise. Fingers are withdrawn and slowly, almost gently, replaced with the hunter's own neglected erection and Dean has to gasp at the heat, the tightness, that comes with being buried inside his angel. It is everything from his dream and yet somehow it is more, because now he is looking down at Castiel's face as he withdraws, watching the play of slight discomfort turn into an almost surprised 'oh' of pleasure when he thrusts forward again and there is an intensity here that he was not prepared for, an intensity in the angel's eyes that seems like it should be at once completely misplaced and at the same time completely right for them.

Instead of dwelling on it, he locks eyes with Castiel, watches as the blue of his eyes is nearly obliterated by his pupils and slowly reaches between them to take the angel's erection in hand, timing his strokes with his thrusts and watching as Cas arches up under him. It is not long until his name falls from the angel's lips in a raptured cry and just the sight of him so completely broken is enough to take Dean over the edge too.

_So, yeah, really and seriously hoping for a resolution to the May issue, whether it's my money back (I really hope not) or an actual ticket. Otherwise there is one chapter left which should tie up all the loose ends._

_Artemis  
_


	18. Chapter 18

_So I write to make myself feel better. Still no news on my convention, but since it's the weekend that's to be expected. This is it, the final chapter and I think I got it all wrapped up! This silly thing changed from my original plan _twice_ during it's creation, once when it went from one shot to multi-chapter fic, and again when it decided that it wanted to be a lot less dark than I had originally intended. I don't see that as a bad thing._

Chapter Eighteen.

Sam's startled cry of his brother's name is cut abruptly short when he finds himself in the motel parking lot looking straight at the Impala. He glares at Gabriel for a long moment who pulls a face at him and shrugs.

"You want to watch?" He asks, head tilting ever so slightly and Sam wonders whether this is something that all angels do, or if it is just the slightly more rebellious kind. "I'll put you back if you like, but really, I didn't think you swung that way."

The meaning behind Gabriel's words makes Sam narrow his eyes and scrunch his nose up a little in disgust because he really does not need to be having thoughts like that involving Dean under normal circumstances, let alone his brother with an _angel _of all things.

"Wait, you're okay with that?" He asks, and honestly he is surprised by the realisation that Gabriel is not in the slightest bit bothered by what is surely happening between Dean and Castiel behind the locked door.

"It's none of my business," the archangel says, though Sam suspects that is not the entire truth, "and I haven't exactly been a saint since I took up this whole Trickster gig anyway." He holds up his hands and looks at them, starting to walk away then turning to look at the hunter when he does not follow. "Coming? Because I promise you, you don't want to be in there."

Sam glances back at the motel room door, grimaces a little when he gets the mental image, and follows the archangel as he heads to the diner across the street. He waits until they are sat down before he repeats the question that Dean's sudden display with Castiel interrupted.

"So what changed your mind?" He queries as the waitress sets a coffee in front of him and a hot chocolate in front of Gabriel. "I mean, you weren't exactly eager to help us." On one level he is cursing himself for asking this, because he is supposed to be keeping Gabriel on side, not reminding him of his reasons for not helping in the first place.

"I was watching," the archangel runs his finger around the top of his mug, seeming suddenly young. "Of _all_ of them, Castiel's the only one who wants the fighting to stop as much as I do. Not for the same reasons, but he wants this to end and he's doing something positive about it. I'm not convinced it'll work, and I still think that the only way to really stop it is for you and Dean to play your parts, but Castiel's doing what he can."

"So it was Cas?" Which Sam honestly finds hard to believe given that the last time Gabriel and Castiel saw each other, Gabe had just sent him somewhere to have the hell beaten out of him.

"No," their plates of food appear and the archangel pauses until the waitress is gone. "It was Zachariah. For centuries he has been the loudest voice among my brethren calling for the war between Michael and Lucifer to be resumed. He wanted the chaos. He wanted the fighting to carry on." The humour that the archangel has spent so long developing and cultivating so that it seems convincing is gone, but Sam understands.

"Do you think it will stop, now that Zach's gone?" The young hunter asks and Gabriel's answering smile is sad. "It never stops," he answers the question himself. "What are you going to do now?"

Gabriel takes a mouthful of his drink as he thinks and then shrugs a little. "Nothing's changed, Sam," he says. "The war's still being fought, I _still_ think you and Dean should be falling over yourselves to play vessel for my brothers and I'm still going to keep doing what I do."

"But you _helped_ us back there!" Sam cannot keep the frustration he feels from showing and yet he is not entirely surprised that Gabriel would apparently prefer to remain in the background. If the young hunter had a choice, he would rather be an anonymous bystander too.

"No, I helped _Castiel_," the archangel insists, waving his fork and letting a blob of ice cream drop back onto his plate of pie. "Little Bro' may not have exactly the most noble or right motivation, but he wants this to stop. I keep him alive, I keep all my options open." Gabriel is doing that same crazed stare thing that Cas does and Sam finds it more than a little unnerving to be the one on the receiving end of it. "Castiel's trying to find _Dad_ and as long as he's not getting in my way and keeps on trying to _stop_ all of this, I'm not going to hurt him." He pauses. "Too much, anyway."

Still, Sam can read the rest that Gabriel has not bothered to say. He can see it in the feigned nonchalance, can tell that as soon as Castiel becomes an inconvenience the archangel will not wait before he wastes him. Sam nods his understanding.

"Great. Well, this has been fun, but I've got business to attend to." Gabriel raises his fingers, poised as if to snap them and then stops, something like mischief on his face and in his eyes. "Oh, one other thing. That offer Lucifer made Castiel? The Morning Star told him that if he handed _you_ over, he would be allowed to keep Dean when Lucifer wins. Interesting that the one of us who absolutely _hates_ humanity is the one who picks up on what your brother and mine want from each other first." With that he is gone, leaving Sam alone in the diner to digest his words as the food he just ate sits heavily in his stomach.

Sam understands the implication behind Gabriel's words, he is not _stupid_ after all, but it makes him wonder, makes him worry and he hurriedly throws some money on the table for the food and drinks as he all but races from the diner. He is not actually concerned that Cas will really hand him over to Lucifer, that is something that Sam is fairly certain Castiel understands about Dean, that protecting Sam comes above all things. Even Dean's own life and Sam really is tired of this sacrificing himself for others thing that his brother has going for him.

First, however, he has to deal with this thing that Dean and Castiel have suddenly started, because while it explains a great deal of his brother's behaviour the last several months, or pretty much since he had been pulled from Hell, it does not make Sam particularly comfortable. When he gets back to the motel room he knocks, because even though there is no sock on the door he has been caught out too many times in the past to run the risk of doing it again, especially with the _incredible _detail that his mind is providing him with of it's own accord.

Dean takes a moment to answer the door, but when he does he has his jeans on and over his shoulder Sam can see that Cas is also in a similar state of dress, or undress depending on which way this thing he interrupted was going. From the less than annoyed expression on Dean's face, Sam would say he came back on the _right_ side of undressed and ignores the question his brother's green eyes shoot at him. The sound of the door closing is soft and then Dean is standing at Castiel's side, his expression tight and wary where Castiel seems to have closed down and is once more the expressionless angel that Sam first met.

"Sam?" Dean asks and there is almost a note of hesitation in his voice, like he is expecting his brother to throw a fit, to scream and rage about how he just defiled an angel. Truthfully, that was Sam's original plan and some of that must have shown in his face because Castiel steps forward, as though he is expecting Sam to do exactly that and the younger hunter is surprised by just how in tune with Dean Cas suddenly seems to be.

"So, you and Cas?" He honestly cannot think of anything else to say at this point.

"Yeah, me and Cas," and Dean smiles at him, honest to Castiel's Father _smiles_ and while it does not silence Sam's misgivings about this, he finds that he cannot air them here, cannot air them now because it has been too long since he saw Dean this happy. "This is going to be awkward, isn't it?" His older brother mutters through the tension.

"What about Lucifer?" Sam asks suddenly instead, sees Dean frown at the sudden shift in topic. "Gabriel told me what he offered you and what he wanted in exchange." He directs this at Castiel, who's head is tilted at an uncomfortable angle even as his eyes take on an expression that Sam cannot quite decipher but that his brother seems to understand fairly well. They must have spent more time hunting together than Sam realised, or Dean probably loves the angel which just makes this whole discussion more awkward and makes Sam want it over as soon as possible.

"Lucifer's offer was never an option, Sam. I wouldn't hand you over to him simply because it suited _my_ wishes." There is an unspoken 'unlike some' on the end of that and Sam realises just how stupid it was to go off on his own with Gabriel. He reminds himself not to do it again.

"So you and Cas, huh?" He mumbles at Dean again and he comes to the conclusion that this probably has not fully sunk in yet. He needs some time, and a new brain, to work through all of this. "I'm getting my own room," he tells them, nods absently and grabs his things.

"Think he's going to be okay with this?" He hears Dean asks as he closes the door, hears the low growl of Castiel's reply and pauses with his fingers light against the handle. This is weird, his brother is not into guys, but somehow, that does not seem to matter anymore and Dean is not freaking out about it. _Yet_. Which makes it somehow better in Sam's mind. He needs time to get used to it, but he knows that he will. Dean has a chance to be happy now and the younger man is going to do everything in his power to make sure that happens.

Besides, if Castiel hurts his brother there is still enough holy oil in the trunk of the Impala to deep fry another three angels at least.

Fin.

_I think the number eighteen holds some sort of significance to my subconscious. Also, I've grown to like writing Gabriel and intend to use him as much as possible in the future, which is fortunate with my next fic._

_Poke the button one more time for me, please?_

_Artemis  
_


End file.
